MAY   MARTIN, 


OTHER  TALES 


OF    THE 


GREEN    MOUNTAINS. 


BY 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  "GREEN  MOUNTAIN  BOYS,"  "LOCKE 
AHSDEN,"  AND  "THE  RANGERS." 


A  NEW  EDITION, 

REVISED.  AND   CORRECTED   BY   THE   AUTHOR. 


BOSTON: 

BENJAMIN   B.   MUSSEY   AND    COMPANY, 

29      CORNHILL. 
1852. 


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MAY    MARTIN, 


AXD   OTHER 


TALES  OF  THE  GREEN  MOUNTAINS. 


-~fr*-  X_~ 

THE  AUTHOR   OF  "GREEN   MOUNTAIN  BOYS,"   "LOCKE 
AMSDEN,"   AND   "THE  RANGERS." 


A    NEW    EDITION 

REVISED     AND     CORRECTED     BY     THE     AUTHOR. 


BOSTON: 
BENJAMIN   B.  MUSSEY   AND   COMPANY, 

29    C  O  R  N  H  I  L  L . 

1852. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 

BENJAMIN  B.  MUSSEY  &  Co., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOTYPED   AT   THE 
BOSTON    STEREOTYPE    FOUNDRY. 


^55* 

s 
> 


PREFACE. 


THE  frequent  calls  which  have  latterly  been  made  on 
the  author  and  his  publishers  for  complete  sets  of  his 
works  has  led  to  the  arrangement  resulting  in  the  pub 
lication  of  the  present  volume,  in  which  all  the  minor 
productions  of  his  pen  that  have  ever  appeared  in  book 
form  are  embraced.  The  leading  tale,  May  Martin,  has 
been  too  extensively  read  in  the  various  mutilated  arid 
unauthorized  editions  which  have  from  time  to  time 
appeared,  both  in  this  country  and  Europe,  to  require 
any  other  remark  than  what  will  be  found  in  the  new 
introductory  chapter  prefixed  to  this  edition.  The  other 
different  tales  embraced  in  the  volume  were  published 
separately,  and  at  various  intervals  of  time,  but  in  a 
manner  which,  in  a  great  measure,  precluded  any  other 
than  a  local  circulation;  and,  consequently,  they  will  be 
new  to  a  great  majority  of  the  readers  of  the  author's 
longer  and  more  important  productions.  Though  relat 
ing  mostly  to  matters  of  a  domestic  and  local  character, 
they  are  yet  all  founded  on  fact,  being  but  illustrations 


PREFACE. 


of  the  actual  incidents  by  which  they  were  suggested, 
with  little  other  variation  than  what  would  naturally 
arise  from  the  introduction-  of  scenery  drawn  from  the 
locality,  the  use  of  dialogue  in  bringing  about  the 
developments,  and,  perhaps  we  should  add,  from  the 
exercise  of  the  license  generally  conceded  to  the  writers 
of  such  tales  —  that  of  making  such  alterations  in  the 
grouping  of  incidents  and  characters  as  may  be  deemed 
advisable  to  heighten  the  interest  of  the  narrative,  or  add 
to  the  effect  of  the  denouement. 

The  tales  have  all  been  thoroughly  revised  and  cor 
rected,  and  are  now  submitted  to  the  public  to  go  with 
the  author's  more  elaborate  works,  which  have  been 
received  with  such  flattering  marks  of  approbation. 

THE  AUTHOR. 
MONTPELIER,  VT.,  Feb.  1852. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

MAY  MARTIN,  OR  THE  MONEY  DIGGERS, 7 

THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST, 161 

THE  SHAKER  LOVERS, 253 

ETHAN  ALLEN  AND  THE  LOST  CHILDREN,       .                       .           .  307 

THE  YOUNG  SEA  CAPTAIN, 335 

THE  OLD  SOLDIER'S  STORY, 355 

A  NEW  WAY  TO   COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT, 361 

AN  INDIAN'S  REVENGE, 371 


MAY    MARTIN; 


THE    MONEY    DIGGERS 


A   GREEN   MOUNTAIN    TALE. 


INTRODUCTION  TO   THE   REVISED   EDITION. 


SINCE  the  public  have  evinced  a  determination  to  be 
pleased  with  MAY  MARTIN,  with  all  its  imperfections,  the 
author,  both  in  justice  to  himself  and  in  return  for  a 
reception  so  little  anticipated  at  the  time  of  its  hasty 
composition,  has  concluded  to  give  this  first  born  of  his 
fancy  a  new  dress,  by  way  of  revision  and  emendation, 
and  at  the  same  time  furnish  a  brief  account  of  the  tra 
ditions  and  incidents  by  which  the  tale  was  first  sug 
gested. 

The  tale  of  MAY  MARTIN,  OR  THE  MONEY  DIGGERS, 
was  composed  in  the  evenings  of  the  month  of  March, 
1835,  being  commenced,  and  the  greater  portion  of  it 
written,  rather  as  an  agreeable  relaxation  from  the  pro 
fessional  labors  and  studies  of  the  day  than  with  any 
view  to  publication.  At  this  juncture,  however,  the  offer 
of  a  prize  of  Fifty  Dollars  for  the  best  original  tale,  made 
by  the  publishers  of  the  New  England  Galaxy,  coming 
under  the  observation  of  the  author,  he  hastily  finished 
his  story  and  cast  it  upon  the  literary  waters,  where  he 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

supposed,  like  nine  tenths  of  such  ventury,  it  would  be 
heard  of  no  more.  But,  in  happy  fulfilment  of  the  adage 
here  alluded  to,  after  many  days  he  found  it,  by  its  ap 
pearance  in  the  periodical  above  named,  with  the  award 
of  the  prize  in  question,  which  it  had  obtained  among 
numerous  competitors.  A  copyright  having  been  se 
cured,  it  was  then  published  in  book  form,  a  large  edition 
of  which  was  soon  exhausted.  Since  that  time,  the 
work  has  never  been  published  by  the  author,  nor  by  his 
consent,  nor  in*  consequence  of  any  assignment  ever 
made  by  him  ;  though  the  market  has  been  constantly 
supplied  by  stolen  or  unauthorized  editions,  got  up  in 
various  parts  of  the  country,  and  presented  without  the 
name  of  the  publishers,  and,  as  might  be  expected,  in  a 
sadly  mutilated  condition.  The  publishers  of  our  peri 
odicals,  also,  have,  in  numerous  instances,  given  the 
work  to  their  readers  entire,  and,  as  with  the  book  pub 
lishers,  without  thanks,  return,  or  benefit  to  the  author, 
save  the  compliment  involved  in  the  act  —  which  is, 
indeed,  something,  since  it  is  not  every  work  that  is 
worth  stealing.  And  this  consideration,  together  with 
that  of  the  republication  of  the  tale  in  London,  as  a 
popular  work  of  English  production,  has  induced  the 
author  to  forego  his  privilege  of  grumbling,  and  let  his 
strayed  bantling  (which  seemed  to  be  doing  so  well  for 
itself,  if  not  for  its  owner)  go  on  seeking  its  fortune 
without  putting  in  any  claim  to  its  earnings,  or  recalling 
it  for  a  new  outfit. 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

Having  said  thus  much  of  the  history  of  the  story 
since  its  first  appearance,  I  will  now  proceed  to  narrate 
the  few  incidents  with  which  its  origin  was  connected. 

Not  many  years  subsequent  to  the  revolutionary  war, 
a  foot  traveller  of  indigent  appearance,  from  some  part 
of  Lower  Canada,  came  into  one  of  the  western  towns 
of  Vermont,  and  hired  himself  out  to  a  farmer  for  a 
month,  to  earn  money,  as  he  hinted,  to  be  expended  in 
the  vicinity,  in  the  prosecution  of  a  special  object,  the 
nature  of  which,  with  considerable  show  of  mystery,  he 
declined  to  make  known.  As  soon  as  he  had  completed 
the  term  of  service  for  which  he  had  engaged,  and  re 
ceived  his  wages,  he  repaired  to  a  land  surveyor,  an 
experienced  woodsman,  whose  acquaintance  with  the 
localities  of  all  the  neighboring  mountains  he  had  pre 
viously  ascertained,  and  proposed  to  hire  him  as  a  guide 
and  assistant  in  exploring  the  woods  for  a  secret  pur 
pose.  This  purpose,  as  he  now  found  it  necessary  to 
the  prosecution  of  his  plan  to  be  somewhat  explicit,  he 
declared  to  be  a  search  for  buried  treasures,  a  portion  of 
which,  in  case  of  success,  was,  in  addition  to  ordinary 
wages,  to  go  to  the  proposed  assistant.  And  still  failing 
to  enlist  the  surveyor  in  so  hopeless  a  project  as  that  of 
searching  for  treasure  buried  in  so  interior  a  country  as 
Vermont,  without  strong  reasons  for  believing  in  its 
existence  in  some  particular  spot,  he  proceeded,  after 
exacting  many  promises  of  secrecy  to  be  observed  till 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

after  the  project  should  succeed  or  be  abandoned,  to 
relate  the  following  singular  story:  — 

Some  time  near  the  close  of  the  French  and  Indian 
wars,  or  so  soon  after,  that  the  country  was  still  in  an  un 
settled  condition,  and  travelling  unsafe  any  where  beyond 
the  outskirts  of  civilization,  a  small  party  of  adventurers, 
who  had  been  to  Mexico,  and,  on  their  return,  had  landed 
at  the  city  of  New  York,  undertook  to  go  over  land  from 
that  city  or  Albany  to  Montreal  and  Quebec,  with  the 
large  treasure  with  which  they  had  enriched  themselves, 
during  their  expedition  to  the  South. 

Taking  the  usual  route  through  Lake  Champlain,  or 
along  its  borders,  then  an  almost  unbroken  wilderness, 
they  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  forts,  about  midway  the 
lake,  without  much  difficulty.  But  at  this  point  they 
became  apprised  of  the  approach  of  a  party  whose 
object,  they  believed,  was  to  plunder  them  of  their  treas 
ure  ;  and  soon  after,  they  found  themselves  so  encom 
passed  by  their  foes,  that  they  deemed  it  their  only 
chance  of  saving  their  wealth  to  leave  the  lake,  bury  all 
they  had  about  them  of  value  in  some  secluded  spot, 
and  then  proceed  to  Canada  by  a  different  route.  Ac 
cordingly  they  struck  off  from  the  lake  to  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  peaks  to  be  seen  from  their  position, 
among  the  Green  Mountains.  And  having  reached  the 
mountain  by  whose  lofty  peak  they  had  been  guided  to 
the  spot,  they  selected  a  wild  and  peculiarly  formed  nook, 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

hemmed  in  by  precipices  and  of  difficult  access,  but 
easily  to  be  recognized  by  themselves,  or  described  to 
those  to  whom  they  might  wish  to  impart  their  secret ; 
and  here  they  buried  their  treasure,  consisting  of  gold 
and  silver,  many  feet  under  ground.  It  was  stated  also 
that  they  performed  over  the  spot  sundry  ceremonies  and 
incantations,  which,  according  to  the  superstition  of  the 
times,  were  necessary  to  prevent  any  but  the  rightful 
owners  from  obtaining  the  treasure.  They  then,  prompted, 
probably,  by  their  jealousy  and  distrust  of  each  other, 
entered  into  a  solemn  compact,  ratified  by  the  mutual 
oath  of  the  whole  party,  that  they  would  return  to  the 
place  only  in  company,  and  no  one  of  them  should  pre 
sume  to  approach  or  touch  the  common  treasure,  except 
in  the  presence  of  all  the  rest,  or  those  duly  authorized 
to  act  for  them;  while  the  time  of  their  return,  which 
was  to  be  as  soon  as  the  state  of  the  country  would 
permit  with  safety,  was  to  be  a  matter  of  future  appoint 
ment.  When  all  these  things  were  settled  to  their  satis 
faction,  they  left  the  place,  and  proceeded  in  a  direct  line 
through  the  woods  to  the  nearest  Canadian  settlements, 
which  they  now  soon  reached,  without  further  molesta 
tion  ;  when,  agreeing  on  some  mode  of  communication 
to  be  kept  up  among  them,  their  homes  being  in  the  dif 
ferent  large  towns  in  Canada,  they  separated  in  high 
spirits  and  with  many  happy  anticipations  of  soon  meet 
ing  again,  to  come  into  the  individual  possession  and 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

enjoyment  of  their  wealth.  They  were  destined,  how 
ever,  to  meet  no  more.  For  sometimes  they  were 
prevented  by  the  terms  of  their  peculiar  compact,  some 
being  sick  or  otherwise  disabled,  and  refusing  to  appoint 
others  to  represent  them ;  sometimes  they  were  deterred 
by  an  inauspicious  season,  and  sometimes  by  the  pres 
ence  of  the  enemy  in  the  country  where  they  had  con 
cealed  their  money.  And  thus,  from  one  year  to  another, 
they  were  kept  away  from  the  object  of  their  common 
interest,  till  all  but  one  individual  of  the  band  were  dead, 
or  gone  to  parts  of  the  world  from  which  there  was  no 
probability  of  their  return.  The  individual  excepted, 
who  had  settled  on  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Memphre- 
magog,  where  he  still  resided  in  indigent  circumstances, 
having  long  waited  in  vain  for  the  appearance  of  some 
of  his  comrades,  and  having  become  too  old  and  decrepit 
to  go  himself  in  search  of  this  long-buried  treasure,  of  the 
secret  of  which  he  supposed  himself  now  the  only  living 
depositary,  had  recently  divulged  the  whole  affair  as 
above  related  to  the  present  narrator,  giving  him  full 
powers  to  go,  search  for,  and,  if  found,  to  bring  away  the 
treasure,  which  was  confidently  believed  still  to  lie  hid 
in  the  earth  at  the  exact  spot  where  it  was  first  deposited. 
And  the  latter,  as  he  stated  in  conclusion  of  his  strange 
story,  having  gained  all  the  information  which  the  old 
man  was  able  to  impart  in  relation  to  the  locality,  and 
every  thing  that  would  be  likely  to  aid  in  the  search,  was 
now  here  for  the  purpose. 


INTRODUCTION. 

The  adventurer  having  thus  imparted  his  grand  secret, 
and  by  his  story  rendered  his  proposed  search  sufficiently 
promising  of  successful  results  to  induce  the  surveyor  to 
engage  in  the  project,  it  now  became  their  first  object  to 
identify  the  mountain  described  by  the  old  man  as  the 
locality  of  the  treasure.  This  mountain,  after  discussing 
all  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  stated  to  have 
been  selected,  they  both  concluded  could  be  no  other 
than  the  one  now  so  generally  known  by  the  appropriate 
appellation  of  CAMEL'S  HUMP,  which  is  the  most  con 
spicuous  peak  in  the  range  of  the  Green  Mountains, 
observable  from  Lake  Champlain,  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
old  forts. 

The  requisite  starting-point  being  thus  settled,  the 
adventurer  and  his  guide  now  made  their  preparations, 
and  secretly  proceeded  on  their  expedition.  But  not 
withstanding  the  great  confidence  of  the  one,  and  the 
somewhat  raised  expectations  of  the  other,  in  regard  to 
their  success,  the  search,  as  the  reader  has  probably 
already  anticipated,  proved  a  fruitless  one ;  for  although 
they  perseveringly  explored  for  many  successive  days, 
not  only  the  mountain  above  designated,  but  several 
others  in  the  vicinity,  next  likely,  in  their  opinion,  to  be 
the  right  ones,  and  although  they  found  places,  (so  many, 
indeed,  that  it  served  more  to  distract  than  aid  them,) 
places  which  served  well  enough  to  answer  the  descrip 
tion  of  the  spot  where  the  money  was  said  to  have  been 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

secreted,  yet  with  all  their  scrutiny,  whether  exercised  by 
excavating  the  earth  or  inspecting  the  surface,  they  were 
able  to  discover  no  treasures,  nor,  indeed,  the  least  traces 
to  indicate  that  any  had  ever  been  buried  there. 

The  search  was  consequently  abandoned,  and  the 
adventurer  departed  for  Canada,  from  which  he  never 
returned,  it  is  believed,  to  resume  the  hopeless  project. 
Nothing  more  now  occurred  for  several  years  having  any 
bearing  on  the  subject,  and  the  Canadian's  story,  and  the 
search  which  was  made  in  consequence,  were  nearly  for 
gotten,  when  a  circumstance  took  place  which  revived 
the  affair,  and  caused  it  to  be  more  generally  known  and 
discussed  than  it  had  ever  been  before.  A  scientific 
gentleman  and  his  son  made  a  mineralogical  excursion 
over  Camel's  Hump,  during  which,  to  their  great  sur 
prise,  they  came  across,  in  some  dark  recess  under  the 
mountain,  evident  traces  of  what  had  been  a  rude  fur 
nace,  and  near  it  they  found  several  crucibles,  such  as 
are  used  in  smelting  the  precious  metals. 

This  circumstance  and  its  supposed  connection  with 
the  story  of  the  Canadian  adventurer,  forming,  it  must 
be  confessed,  a  curious  and  hitherto  unexplained  coinci 
dence,  gave  rise,  it  is  believed,  to  the  first,  and,  indeed, 
all  the  attempts  at  money-digging,  that  ever  were  made 
in  Vermont.  No  sooner  were  these  stories,  with  the 
exaggerations  usual  in  such  cases,  fairly  abroad,  than  the 
dreamers  of  buried  treasures  were  on  the  alert.  Two 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

separate  companies  were  formed,  one  to  commence 
operations  on  Camel's  Hump,  and  the  other  on  a  large 
semicircular  mountain  some  distance  to  the  east  of  it. 
The  former  of  these  companies  was  headed  by  a  native 
of  the  state,  a  pretended  adept  in  finding  secreted  treas 
ures,  who,  going  on  the  Hump  with  his  band  of  dupes, 
and  selecting  his  position,  undertook  to  find  the  particu 
lar  spot  where  the  money  was  buried,  by  ceremonies 
invented  or  patched  up,  probably  by  himself,  consisting 
of  a  strange  jumble  of  religious  rites,  and  the  forms  said 
to  have  been  used  by  magicians  and  sorcerers,  such  as 
singing  hymns,  enclosing  himself  in  a  circle  marked  on 
the  ground,  invoking  unseen  spirits,  and  holding  ostensi 
ble  conversation  with  them,  with  many  other  mysterious 
performances,  the  purport  of  which  was  as  little  under 
stood  by  himself,  perhaps,  as  by  his  wondering  associates. 
The  spirits,  however,  did  not  deign  to  direct  the  search, 
at  this  time,  as  he  said,  and  after  a  day  or  two  spent  in 
this  manner,  the  company  left  the  mountain,  with  the 
promise  of  the  leader  to  call  them  together  again  as  soon 
as  the  auspicious  moment  should  arrive,  which,  I  believe, 
never  happened. 

The  other  company,  which  was  organized,  I  think,  the 
same  summer,  made  a  much  more  systematic  and  pro 
tracted  attempt,  which  became  invested  in  its  progress 
with  no  small  degree  of  romantic  interest.  And  it  was 
the  doings  of  this  secret  and  sworn  band  of  adventurers, 
2* 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

with  some  circumstances  connected  with  the  locality  of 
their  operations,  which  furnished  all  the  hints  for  the 
story  of  The  Money  Diggers,  as  it  was  christened  at 
the  outset,  but  to  which,  as,  in  the  progress  of  the  tale, 
it  was  perceived  that  its  main  interest  would  turn  on 
the  destinies  of  the  heroine,  was  added,  or  rather  pre 
fixed,  the  name  of  May  Martin.  The  company  was  got 
up  by  a  youngish  man,  who  appears  to  have  been  a  per 
son  of  considerable  adroitness  and  address,  and  who, 
coming  into  the  obscure  neighborhood  situated  near  the 
mountains  which  became  the  scene  of  his  subsequent 
operations,  and  there  finding  several  individuals,  well 
imbued  with  the  money-digging  mania,  caught  from  the 
stories  and  circumstances  before  narrated,  proceeded, 
upon  the  hints  thus  obtained,  after  coming  into  the  place, 
very  probably,  to  make  known  his  pretended  skill  as  a 
treasure-finder,  and  enlist  the  persons,  whom  he  there 
found  suited  to  his  purpose  and  already  eager  for  such  a 
project,  into  a  secret  and  strictly  organized  company  for 
the  professed  object,  as  he  held  out,  of  discovering  the 
long-sought  treasure  of  which  they  had  so  often  heard. 
This  personage,  who  at  the  time  was  probably  a  refugee 
from  justice  from  some  other  quarter,  was  doubtless  a 
counterfeiter,  and  one  of  that  extensive  band  of  coun 
terfeit-money  dealers,  who  were  first  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  their  art  by  the  noted  Stephen  Burroughs, 
and  who,  in  those  days,  rendezvoused  mostly  in  some 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

of  the  south-eastern  townships  of  Lower  Canada,  from 
which  they  could  carry  their  operations  over  the  line  into 
the  States  with  the  best  chance  of  success  and  safety. 
He  appeared  to  be  well  apprised  of  all  that  had  been  said 
and  done  in  relation  to  the  treasure  supposed  to  have 
been  buried  in  one  of  the  mountains  of  Vermont.  But 
whether  he  obtained  his  information  by  fishing  it  out 
from  different  individuals  of  the  neighborhood,  after 
coming  into  the  place,  and  before  forming  his  plans,  or 
whether  he  obtained  it,  as  he  pretended,  from  the  old 
man  in  Canada,  referred  to  by  the  first  adventurer,  who 
was  a  different,  and  probably  an  honest  man,  I  have 
never  been  able  to  determine.  He  professed,  however, 
in  his  communications  to  his  company,  to  have  come  on. 
with  fresh  authority  and  instructions  from  the  same 
source.  And  during  the  time  he  was  enlisting  his  com 
pany,  and  making  pretended  approximations  towards  the 
exact  place  of  the  buried  treasure,  he  made  several  jour 
neys  into  Canada,  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  consult 
ing  the  old  man  and  obtaining  further  information  in 
regard  to  the  locality,  all  of  which  was  made  to  confirm 
him  in  the  opinion,  which,  he  told  them,  he  at  once 
adopted,  as,  in  his  general  search,  he  entered  their  little 
settlement,  viz.,  that  one  of  the  mountains  which  sur 
round  it  must  be  the  one  in  question.  But  although  his 
story  respecting  the  manner  in  which  the  treasure  was 
originally  buried  was,  in  the  main,  the  same  which  had 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

been  imparted  to  the  surveyor  by  his  predecessor,  yet  he 
now  invested  the  transaction  with  several  additional  cir 
cumstances,  such  as  the  murdering  of  a  man  by  the 
company  and  burying  him  with  the  money,  to  deter  any 
from  obtaining  it  but  those  initiated  into  the  art  of  lay 
ing  the  ghost.  This,  and  other  circumstances  of  the  like 
marvellous  character,  which,  to  subserve  his  own  secret 
purposes,  he  threw  over  the  affair,  would  greatly  enhance 
the  difficulties  of  obtaining  the  money,  he  said ;  but  all 
these  obstacles  he  well  knew  how  to  meet,  and  if  his 
band  would  observe  the  rules  he  should  prescribe  to 
them,  there  was  no  doubt  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  strange 
sights  and  sounds  which  might  assail  their  senses,  they 
would  come  off  victorious.  Having,  in  this  manner,  pre 
pared  his  excited  band,  and  secured  certain  contributions 
which  he  exacted  from  each  of  them,  he  at  length  led 
them  to  the  spot  in  the  mountain  which  he  had  selected 
as  the  scene  of  operation. 

What  now  ensued,  as  it  was  made  to  appear  to  this 
heated  band  of  enthusiasts,  will  be  found,  but  with  little 
amplification  and  embellishment,  embodied  in  the  tale, 
to  which  this  sketch  is  intended  as  an  introduction,  in 
those  parts  that  relate  to  the  doings  of  the  Money  Dig 
gers.  Some  of  the  incidents  therein  set  forth,  however, 
were  with  me,  I  may  as  well  here  state,  rather  matters 
of  unavoidable  inference  than  of  known  fact,  such  as 
the  existence  of  an  accomplice  to  the  leader,  and  the 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

part  he  enacted  in  getting  up  the  strange  spectacles  and 
noises  by  which  the  company  were  unquestionably 
frightened  from  their  nightly  labors,  and  such  also  as  the 
supposed  fact,  that  this  leader  and  his  secreted  accom 
plice  were  counterfeiters,  or  dealers  in  false  coin,  which 
they  either  brought  with  them  from  Canada  or  manu 
factured  in  some  place  of  concealment  in  the  mountains  ; 
this  supposition  being  the  only  one  by  which  I  could 
account  for  the  possession  of  the  few  counterfeit*  dollars 
which  some  of  the  company  certainly  got  hold  of  in  the 
course  of  their  operations,  supposing  it  to  be  genuine, 
and  which,  indeed,  on  being  shown,  led  to  threats  of 
arrest,  to  the  alarm  and  sudden  and  final  dispersion  of 
the  whole  company. 

Having  thus  given  the  results  of  my  investigation  on 
the  subject  of  money  digging  in  Vermont,  it  now  only 
remains  for  me  to  add,  that  becoming  somewhat  inter 
ested  in  the  novel  and  dramatic  incidents  that  were 
furnished  in  the  operations  of  the  company  last  and 
more  particularly  described,  the  details  of  which,  in  all 
their  minutiae,  were  given  me  some  time  afterwards  by 
one  of  the  acting  members  of  the  band,  I  subsequently 
made  an  excursion  to  the  wild  and  sequestered  part  of 
the  country  where  these  events  occurred.  And  here, 
after  attending  to  whatever  had  reference  to  the  particu 
lar  affair  that  had  led  to  my  visit,  and  taking  note  of  the 
remarkable  and  impressive  scenery  of  the  place,  consist- 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  of  a  partially  settled  glen,  almost  wholly  environed  by 
towering  mountains,  I  was  induced  to  make  some  inqui 
ries  respecting  the  original  ownership  and  settlement  of 
the  valley.  And  the  simple  fact  thus  elicited,  that  it  had 
once  been  mostly  owned  by  a  wealthy  landholder  of  one 
of  our  Atlantic  cities,  who  bequeathed  it  to  a  grand 
daughter,  who  married  a  plain  but  enterprising  young 
man,  an  occasional  resident  of  the  place,  furnished,  with 
one  or  two  other  circumstances  connected  with  the  char 
acter  and  career  of  one  of  the  early  settlers,  the  slight 
superstructure  of  facts  on  which  were  founded  the  for 
tunes  of  May  Martin. 

THE  AUTHOR. 
MONTPELIER,  June,  1850. 


MAY    MARTIN; 

OR, 

THE   MONEY   DIGGERS 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  With  what  superior  grace  enchants 
The  face  which  Nature's  pencil  paints  ! 
Where  eyes,  unexercised  in  art, 
Glow  with  the  meaning  of  the  heart." 

IN  one  of  those  rough  and  secluded  towns,  situated 
in  the  heart  of  the  Green  Mountains,  is  a  picturesque 
little  valley,  containing,  perhaps,  something  over  two 
thousand  acres  of  improvable  land,  formerly  known  in 
that  section  of  the  country  by  the  appellation  of  The 
Harwood  Settlement,  so  called  from  the  name  of  the 
original  proprietor  of  the  valley.  As  if  formed  by  some 
giant  hand,  literally  scooping  out  the  solid  mountain 
and  moulding  it  into  shape  and  proportion,  the  whole 
valley  presents  the  exact  resemblance  of  an  oval  basin, 
whose  sides  are  composed  of  a  continuous  ridge  of  lofty 
hills  bordering  it  around,  and  broken  only  by  two  nar 
row  outlets  at  its  northerly  and  southerly  extremities. 
The  eastern  part  of  this  valley  is  covered  by  one  of 
those  clear,  mirror-like  ponds,  which  furnish  so  interest 
ing  a  feature  in  our  Green  Mountain  scenery.  This 


24  MAY    MARTIN, 

body  of  water,  the  freshly  collected  tribute  of  a  hun 
dred  hills,  and  the  chosen  retreat  of  the  fierce-eyed  trout, 
the  wild  duck,  and  the  trumpet-voiced  loon,  lies  very 
nearly  in  the  shape  of  a  crescent,  and  extends  along 
beneath  the  closely  encircling  mountains  the  whole 
length  of  the  glen,  to  which  it  forms  a  bright  and  beau 
tiful  border  of  waters,  wherein  are  forever  reflected, 
faintly  or  vividly,  as  cloud  or  sunshine  may  prevail,  the 
motley  groups  of  the  sombre  forest  around,  where  the 
more  slender  and  softer-tinted  beech  and  maple  seem 
struggling  for  a  place  among  the  rough  and  shaggy 
forms  of  the  sturdy  hemlock,  peering  head  over  head 
from  the  ascending  cliffs  of  the  woody  precipice ;  while 
here  and  there,  at  distant  intervals,  towering  high  over 
all,  stands  the  princely  pine,  waving  its  majestic  head 
in  solitary  grandeur,  a  striking,  but  melancholy  type  of 
the  aboriginal  Indian,  still  occasionally  found  lingering 
among  us,  the  only  remaining  representative  of  a  once 
powerful  race,  which,  having  receded  before  the  march 
of  civilized  men,  are  now  destined  no  more  to  flourish 
the  lords  of  the  plain  and  the  mountain.  This  pond 
discharges  its  surplus  waters  at  its  southern  extremity, 
in  a  pure  stream  of  considerable  size,  which  here,  as  if 
in  wild  glee  at  its  escape  from  the  embrace  of  its  parent 
waters,  leaps  at  once,  from  a  state  of  the  most  unruffled 
tranquillity,  over  a  ledgy  barrier,  and,  with  noisy  rever 
berations,  goes  bounding  along  from  cliff  to  cliff,  in  a 
series  of  romantic  cascades,  down  a  deep  ravine,  till  the 
lessening  echoes  are  lost  in  the  sinuosities  of  the  outlet 
of  the  valley.  From  the  western  shore  of  this  sheet  of 
water  the  land  rises  in  gentle  undulations,  and  with  a 
gradual  ascent,  back  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains  which 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  25 

here,  as  on  every  other  side,  rear  their  ever-green  sum 
mits  to  the  clouds,  standing  around  this  vast  fortress  of 
nature  as  huge  sentinels  posted  along  the  lofty  outworks, 
to  battle  with  the  careering  hurricanes,  that  burst  in  fury 
on  their  immovable  sides,  and  arrest,  and  receive  on 
their  own  unscathed  heads,  the  shafts  of  the  lightning 
descending  for  its  victims  to  the  valley  below ;  while 
they  cheerily  bandy  from  side  to  side  the  voicy  echoes 
of  the  thunder-peal  with  their  mighty  brethren  of  the 
opposite  rampart. 

Nor  is  the  beauty  of  the  minor  features  of  the  land 
scape  surpassed  by  the  bold  grandeur  of  the  main  out 
lines.  The  interior  of  the  valley,  for  miles  in  extent, 
uniformly  sloping  to  the  eastward,  is  checked  with  beau 
tiful  alternations  of  lawn  and  woodland,  forever  richly 
clothed,  in  their  season,  with  the  wavy  and  lighter  ver 
dure  of  the  cultivated  field,  or  the  deep-tinted  and  exu 
berant  foliage  of  the  forest ;  while  a  thousand  gushing 
rills  come  dancing  down  from  the  surrounding  heights 
to  meet  the  morning  sun,  and  glitter  in  his  first  smile, 
as  he  looks  in  over  the  eastern  barrier  on  his  return  from 
his  diurnal  circuit. 

At  the  period  of  which  we  are  about  to  write,  the 
rude  dwellings  of  the  small  band  of  settlers,  who  then 
inhabited  the  valley,  were  scattered  at  different  intervals 
along  the  road,  which,  entering  from  the  south,  wound 
round  the  westerly  margin  of  the  pond,  and  passed  off' 
through  the  interlapping  mountains  towards  Canada. 
Of  these  dwellings,  the  largest  and  most  respectable  in 
appearance  was  the  one  situated  in  the  most  southerly 
part  of  the  valley.  The  old  log  house  of  the  pioneer, 
still  standing  in  the  background,  surrounded  by  weeds 
3 


26  MAY    MARTIN, 

and  briers,  had  here  given  place  to  a  new  framed  house 
of  one  story,  which,  together  \vith  the  appearance  of 
the  out-buildings  and  the  well-cultivated  grounds  adjoin 
ing,  betokened  a  considerable  degree  of  thrift  and  com 
fort  in  the  circumstances  of  the  owner. 

Towards  night  on  a  beautiful  summer's  day,  at  the 
time  we  have  chosen  for  the  opening  of  our  tale,  a  young 
man  and  maiden  might  be  seen  leaving  the  door  of  the 
cottage  we  have  described,  and  leisurely  taking  their 
way  across  the  pasture,  in  a  direction  to  intersect  the 
main  road  at  the  termination  of  the  clearing  on  the  south. 
The  first  named  of  this  couple,  apparently  of  the  age  of 
about  twenty-five,  was  in  the  full  bloom  of  vigorous 
manhood.  His  hardy,  robust,  and  well-formed  frame 
was  graced  with  an  open,  frank,  and  highly  intelligent 
countenance,  indicative  at  once  of  an  ingenuous  disposi 
tion,  a  light  heart,  and  the  consciousness  of  a  strong 
hand,  with  mental  capacity  to  govern  and  render  it 
available  —  exhibiting  in  his  person  a  fine  sample  of  the 
early  immigrants  of  Vermont,  who  were  almost  univer 
sally  men  of  uncommon  physical  powers,  and  generally 
of  moral  qualities  which  quailed  at  no  ordinary  obsta 
cles  —  a  fact  attributable,  probably,  neither  to  chance, 
nor  the  peculiarly  invigorating  effects  of  their  climate, 
but  to  the  natural  operation  of  these  very  powers  and 
qualities  themselves,  which  only  could  incite  them  to 
forsake  the.  ease  and  comfort  of  an  old  settlement,  with 
the  certainty  of  encountering  hardships  in  a  new  one, 
and  enduring  trials,  from  which  men  of  common  mould 
would  shrink  with  dismay.  His  fair  companion  was 
evidently  quite  youthful.  Her  person  was  rather  slightly 
formed,  but  of  closely  knit  and  beautifully  rounded 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  27 

proportions,  which  were  indebted  for  their  almost  fault 
less  symmetry  to  none  of  the  crippling  arts  of  fashion, 
but  solely  to  the  hand  of  unrestrained  nature,  giving  a 
free  and  graceful  motion,  and  a  step  as  light  and  agile  as 
that  of  the  young  fawn  of  the  mountains,  among  which 
she  was  reared.  The  complexion  of  her  face,  however, 
was,  perhaps,  too  dark  to  be  delicate,  or  to  give  full 
effect  to  the  rich  brown  tresses  that  encircled  her  high 
forehead  and  fell  profusely  in  natural  ringlets  down  her 
finely-arched  neck.  And  her  features  also,  though  reg 
ular,  were  .remarkable  only  for  the  wonderful  vivacity 
of  their  expression  ;  though  now,  as  she  and  her  com 
panion  pursued  their  way  from  the  house  some  rods  in 
silence,  her  mind  seemed  absent,  or  absorbed  by  some 
care,  her  looks  were  quiescent  and  listless,  and  her  dark 
blue  eye  seemed  sleeping  in  abstraction  —  but  lo !  her 
lover  speaks,  and  a  thousand  varying  emotions  suddenly 
manifest  themselves  in  her  countenance  —  a  smile  of  pe 
culiar  sweetness  plays  on  her  lovely  lips,  her  fair  cheeks 
are  wreathing  in  beauteous  dimples,  and  her  eyes  bright 
ly  sparkle  with  the  light  of  the  soul,  that  seems  to  have 
taken  perch,  the  instant,  within  them. 

"  May,"  said  he,  "  May,  my  girl,  do  you  know  that  I 
have  invited  you  out  for  this  little  walk  only  to  bid  you 
adieu,  and  that  too  for  a  considerable  season  ?  " 

"No!  —  surely!"  replied  the  girl,  pausing  in  her  step, 
and  looking  up  into  the  manly  features  of  her  lover, 
with  an  expression  of  lively  concern  —  "surely,  you  are 
not  going  your  journey  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Yes,  May,  I  have  a  horse  in  readiness  at  the  village 
below,  and  thither  I  propose  walking  to-night,  to  be  pre 
pared  for  an  early  start  for  Massachusetts  in  the  morn- 
ing." 


28  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  And  how  soon  will  you  return  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  may  be  absent  nearly  two  months." 

"  So  very  long !  " 

"  Most  probably  —  my  business  is  such  as  may  lead  to 
delays  —  but  why  so  concerned.  May?  this  is  one  more 
absence,  and  then  — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  what  you  would  say ;  but  why  is 
even  this  absence  necessary  ?  " 

"  It  is  but  right  that  you  should  know,  May,  and  I 
will  tell  you.  It  is  now  nearly  a  year  since  I  contracted 
for  the  land,  on  which  I  made  a  pitch,  in  this  settle 
ment.  The  time  for  a  payment,  when  I  am  to  receive 
a  title,  has  nearly  arrived ;  and  I  am  going  to  gather  up 
the  little  pittance  of  property,  which  I  earned  with  my 
own  hands,  and  left  invested  in  my  native  state,  when  I 
departed  for  the  wild  woods  of  Vermont,  and  which  I 
now  need  to  enable  me  to  meet  this  payment." 

"  It  is  right  then,  I  presume,  that  you  go ;  but  yet  I 
dread  your  absence." 

"  Dread !  I  hardly  dared  hope  that  my  presence  was 
so  much  valued,  May." 

"  How  vain,  now!  —  no,  no,  I  did  not  mean  that — I 
have  other  reasons  for  dreading  your  absence." 

"  And  what  can  they  be,  dearest  May  ?  " 

"  I  have  often  thought  I  would  never  disturb  your 
feelings  by  the  story  of  my  little  troubles." 

"  Troubles  !  and  not  tell  me,  May  —  you  surprise  and 
disturb  me  already  —  to  whom  should  you  confide  them, 
if  not  to  me  ?  " 

"  True,  Mr.  Ashley,  true,  if  you  take  the  interest  in 
me  which  you  profess  —  to  you  certainly,  if  to  any  one, 
should  I  confide  them.  And,  indeed,  should  any  thing 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  29 

happen  to  me  in  your  absence,  in  consequence  of  their 
existence,  I  should  wish,  perhaps,  I  had  apprised  you  of 
the  difficulties  which  beset  me  — " 

"  O,  tell  me,  tell  me,  May." 

"  I  will  —  you  already  know  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Martin, 
with  whom  I  have  lived  from  a  small  child,  are  not  my 
father  and  mother,  by  relationship ;  and  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  they  are  not  more  so  by  their  treatment  —  often,  too 
often,  have  they  made  me  feel  that  I  am  the  child  of 
other  parents." 

"  Why,  surely  you  never  even  hinted  such  a  thing  be 
fore  ;  and  I  certainly  never  suspected  any  thing  of  the 
kind.  They  always  have  appeared  sufficiently  kind  to 
you,  in  my  presence." 

"  O,  yes,  in  your  presence ;  and,  even  when  you  are  in 
the  neighborhood,  they  are  more  cautious  in  their  cru 
elty  ;  but  as  soon  as  you  are  fairly  out  of  the  settlement, 
for  any  considerable  absence,  I  soon  am  made  aware  of 
it  by  other  means  than  the  void  of  my  feelings,  at  the 
loss  of  your  society.  You  have  been  told  of  a  pedler 
who  undertook  to  be  my  suitor,  the  year  before  you  came 
here.  That  was  their  work;  and  I  never  shall  forget 
their  meanness  in  trying  to  unite  me  to  that  vagabond, 

—  to  get  me  out  of  the  country,  as  I  have  often  thought." 
"  But  what  reason  can  they  have  for  such  treatment  ? 

—  and  in  what  manner  is  it  exercised  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sensible  of  ever  having  given  them  any 
cause ;  and  I  cannot  even  guess  at  the  reason.  As  re 
gards  the  manner,  it  is  no  personal  violence,  that  I  com 
plain  of;  but  is  it  much  less  painful  to  be  insulted, — 
despised,  —  to  see,  know,  and  be  made  to  feel,  that  I 
am  hated  ?  " 

3* 


30  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  No,  May,  no.  This  is  indeed  news  to  me,  but  it 
must  not,  shall  not  be.  I  will  this  moment  return  and 
see  them,  and  secure  you  a  kinder  treatment,  or,  as  sure 
as  my  name  is  William  Ashley,  their  house  this  day 
ceases  to  be  your  home." 

"  O,  no !  not  for  the  world  !  not  a  step,  —  not  a  word, 
—  if  you  love  me,  not  a  word  to  them  of  what  I  have 
told  you.  I  would  not  leave  them  at  this  late  period,  — 
I  can  bear  with  them  a  few  months  longer ;  and  then  — 
and  then,  who  knows,"  she  continued,  hesitating  and 
blushing,  as  she  dashed  aside  the  tear  that  had  gathered 
in  her  eye  at  the  recital  of  her  wrongs,  and  looked  up 
archly  to  her  lover,  "  who  knows  whether  I  am  then  to 
find  a  better  home  ?  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  Ah,  May,  let  the  time  for  proving 
this  but  arrive  ;  for  by  all  that  is  true  and  sacred  in  honor, 
or  in  love,  I  swear  —  " 

"  O,  no,  no,  no!"  interrupted  the  girl,  with  returning 
vivacity,  and  with  that  playful  tact  with  which  woman 
so  well  knows  how  to  quell  the  storm  she  has  raised  in 
the  less  versatile  bosom  of  man,  "  O,  no,  no,  don't  swear 
at  me  —  I  have  enough  of  that  at  home." 

The  lovers,  having  now  arrived  at  the  end  of  their 
walk,  seated  themselves  amidst  a  cluster  of  low  ever 
greens,  on  the  brink  of  a  high  bank,  to  indulge  a  while, 
before  the  final  adieu,  in  that  luxury  of  love,  the  inter 
change  of  mutual  pledges  of  affection,  on  the  eve  of 
separation.  The  scenery  of  the  spot  was  well  calcu 
lated  to  enhance  the  natural  interest  of  the  moment, 
and  hallow  it  to  their  feelings.  Some  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  below,  and  almost  directly  under  their  feet,  the  road, 
just  emerging  from  the  woods,  wound  along  on  a  scanty 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  31 

jut,  or  shelf  of  the  hill-side,  which,  immediately  beyond, 
formed  a  lofty  precipice,  terminating  in  the  stream,  that 
rushed  in  stifled  murmurs  swiftly  down  its  rugged  chan 
nel,  deeply  embowered  in  the  overhanging  forest  be 
neath.  The  cool  spray,  stealing  through  the  dark  foliage 
of  the  lofty  fir  and  spruce,  whose  roots  were  grasping 
the  rocky  margin  of  the  stream  a  hundred  feet  below, 
and  whose  wavy  and  attenuated  tops  now  seemed 
almost  within  the  reach  of  the  hand,  was  visibly  rising 
athwart  the  bright  pencils  of  the  struggling  sunbeams, 
in  glittering  vibrations  to  the  heavens,  and  with  grateful 
freshness  came  mingling  on  the  senses  with  the  balmy 
odor  of  the  birch  and  gilead  ;  while  the  seemingly  low 
encircling  firmament  canopied  their  heads,  with  that  deep 
and  rich  cerulean  so  peculiar  to  the  woody  glens  of  the 
Green  Mountains.  And  all  around  and  above  them 
was  breathing  a  purity,  and  shedding  a  tranquil  bright 
ness,  beautifully  emblematical  alike  of  the  innocent  and 
unalloyed  affections  of  their  gushing  hearts,  and  their 
sunny  anticipations  of  the  future. 

Their  enjoyment  of  these  happy  moments,  however, 
was  soon  to  be  interrupted.  Their  attention  was  now 
arrested  by  the  sounds  of  clattering  hoofs  in  the  road 
below ;  and  turning  their  eyes  to  the  spot  from  whence 
the  noise  proceeded,  they  beheld  a  single  horseman, 
urging,  with  cruel  applications  of  the  whip,  his  faltering 
steed  up  the  hill  towards  the  settlement.  When  nearly 
opposite,  or,  rather,  under  the  spot  where  our  lovers  sat, 
concealed  from  view  by  the  boughs  of  their  covert,  the 
horse  paused,  staggered  an  instant,  and  fell,  with  his 
rider,  to  the  ground.  The  poor  animal,  after  a  few 
convulsive  flounderings,  gasped  feebly,  and  died  on  the 
spot. 


32  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Damn  the  luck  ! "  exclaimed  the  traveller,  giving  the 
dead  carcass  two  or  three  spiteful  kicks,  "  damn  the 
luck  !  the  horse  is  dead  !  However,"  he  continued,  after 
a  short  pause  occupied  in  taking  a  hasty  glance  up  and 
down  the  road,  and  then  over  the  precipice,  "  however, 
dead  horses,  like  dead  men,  will  tell  no  tales  ;  that  is,  if 
well  buried.  And  here's  grave  enough  down  this  bot 
tomless  gulf,  in  all  conscience,  I  should  think  ;  so  now 
for  a  speedy  funeral."  So  saying,  and  hastily  unlacing 
a  small  valise  attached  to  the  crupper  of  the  somewhat 
tattered  saddle,  and  filled  apparently  with  clothing,  he 
grappled  with  main  strength  the  body  of  the  horse,  and 
rolled  it  off  the  precipice,  down  the  steep  side  of  which 
it  was  heard  heavily  bounding  through  briers,  bushes, 
and  fallen  tree  tops,  till  it  struck,  with  a  faint  splash,  in 
the  water  below.  With  another  rapid  glance  thrown 
cautiously  around  him,  he  took  his  valise  under  his  arm, 
and  proceeded  leisurely  on  towards  the  settlement. 

"  I  am  so  glad  he  is  gone,  and  without  discovering 
us !  "  half  audibly  exclaimed  May,  the  first  to  arouse 
from  the  mute  surprise  with  which  they  had  witnessed 
the  whole  transaction,  that  so  suddenly  came  and  termi 
nated,  like  the  detached  scene  of  some  panoramic  exhi 
bition  passing  quickly  before  them,  "  I  can  breathe  again 
now.  How  strangely  he  talked  to  himself!  Don't  you 
think  his  conduct  very  singular  ?  " 

"  Singular  enough,"  replied  Ashley ;  "  but  he  really 
displayed  some  cool  philosophy  in  the  death  and  burial 
of  his  horse,  as  he  termed  tumbling  him  down  the  gulf." 

"  Who  and  what  can  he  be  ?  " 

"  I  am  puzzled  to  conjecture.  But  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  him  some  watched  smuggler,  who  was  riding  for 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  33 

life  to  meet  and  secrete  some  goods  he  may  have  com 
ing  in  this  direction.  These  gentry  often  take  this  back 
road  for  their  excursions,  I  am  told."  * 

"  It  may  be  so  ;  but  I  did  not  like  his  appearance  any 
better  than  his  actions.  How  suspiciously  he  looked 
around  to  discover  if  any  one  was  in  sight!  and  how 
cruel  to  beat  his  horse  so,  and  then  kick  the  poor  creature 
as  he  was  dying  !  " 

"  Nor  did  /  like  the  appearance  of  the  fellow,  at  all ; 
and  I  confess  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  my  own 
solution  of  the  affair.  But  I  have  no  further  leisure,  at 
present,  to  bestow  in  useless  conjectures  :  perhaps  one  or 
both  of  us  may  learn  more,  hereafter,  that  will  throw 
light  on  the  subject.  And  now.  May,  my  dearest  May, 
I  must  go,  leaving  you  to  return  to  the  house  alone." 

"  O,  not  yet." 

"  Indeed,  and  indeed,  I  must  linger  no  longer.  See ! 
the  sun  is  nearly  to  the  mountains.  But  once  more, 
May  —  do  you  love  me,?" 

"  O,  too  much  !  " 

«  And  will  be  true  ?  " 

"  Forever ! " 


*  Smuggling  dry  goods  from  Lower  Canada  into  the  States  was 
carried  on  for  many  years  previous  to  the  last  war,  to  an  extent  but 
little  known,  probably,  to  the  public  at  large.  And  the  woods,  or  the 
most  thinly-settled  towns  in  the  northern  parts  of  Vermont,  were 
usually  selected  by  those  contrabandists,  as  furnishing  their  safest 
route  out  of  the  province.  And  the  curious  manosuvres  of  these  gentry 
to  escape  the  custom-house  officers  and  their  assistants  ;  the  skirmishes 
in  the  woods  and  by-roads  ;  the  races,  the  chases,  the  broken  bones, 
and  bloody  heads  thus  occasioned  in  these  wild  and  lawless  proceed 
ings,  might  furnish  incident  for  a  volume  of  no  little  interest. 


34  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Then,  dearest  girl,  may  the  great  One  above  us  pre 
serve  you.  Farewell !  farewell !  " 

"  Farewell ! "  sighed  the  tearful  girl,  in  accents  soft 
and  broken  as  the  dying  murmur  of  the  distant  cascade, 
with  which  they  mingled  on  the  air.  An  instant,  and 
Ashley  stood  in  the  road  below,  giving  the  last  lingering 
look  of  parting  ;  another,  and  he  had  disappeared  from 
the  sight  of  his  sorrowful  companion,  who  slowly  and 
pensively  pursued  her  lonely  way  back  to  her  now,  more 
than  ever,  dreary  and  joyless  home,  at  the  cottage  we 
have  already  described. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  35 


CHAPTER    II. 

"  Her  lovely  mind  could  culture  well  repay, 
And  more  engaging  grew  from  pleasing  day  to  day." 

THE  owner  of  the  cottage,  as  the  reader  is  already 
apprised,  was  a  Mr.  Martin,  who,  with  a  few  others, 
had  made,  many  years  before,  the  first  permanent  set 
tlement  in  the  valley.  They  had  purchased  of  one 
Colvin,  a  resident  of  the  small  village  to  which  allu 
sion  has  before  been  made,  situated  some  six  or  eight 
miles  below,  in  the  southerly  corner  of  what  had  now 
become  an  organized  town,  embracing  the  greatest  part 
of  this  settlement  within  its  boundaries.  This  man  had 
formerly  acted  as  agent  to  Harwood,  the  original  pro 
prietor  of  the  whole  valley,  in  disposing  of  the  same 
lands  to  others  which  he  subsequently  sold  to  Martin 
and  his  companions,  as  principal,  the  first  occupants  be 
coming  sick  of  their  bargains,  or  proving  too  poor  and 
thriftless  to  pay  for  their  farms,  having  abandoned  and 
left  them,  before  receiving  any  but  defeasible  titles, 
with  their  few  scanty  improvements,  to  more  able  and 
enterprising  successors.  About  the  time  of  this  deser 
tion  of  the  first  settlers,  or  rather  squatters,  perhaps,  they 
might  be  termed,  Colvin  made  a  journey  to  the  seaport 
in  New  Hampshire,  where  Harwood  resided,  and  re 
turned  with  the  story  that  he  had  bought  out  the  original 
proprietor,  and  was  now  sole  owner  of  the  valley.  He 


of)  MAY    MARTIN, 

then  immediately  set  to  work  in  searching  for  purcha 
sers  ;  and  by  his  unwearied  exertions  in  this  respect, 
and  the  inducements  held  out  by  the  smallness  of  his 
reduced  prices,  he  soon  succeeded  in  finding  money 
purchasers  for  all  the  valley  thought  capable  of  improve 
ment  This  he  had  no  sooner  effected  than  he  suddenly 
left  that  part  of  the  country,  and  was  heard  of  no  more. 
From  this  time  the  settlement  made  rapid  progress  in 
improvement ;  and  many  of  the  families,  there  now  per 
manently  located,  among  which  was  that  of  Martin,  wero, 
at  that  period  of  our  tale,  in  comparatively  easy  and  com 
fortable  circumstances.  Martin  and  his  wife,  having  no 
children  of  their  own,  had  taken  May,  the  heroine  of  our 
story,  when  quite  young,  and  adopted  her  as  a  daughter. 
Of  the  girl's  parentage  little  or  nothing  had  ever  been 
ascertained.  Her  mother,  it  appeared,  had  been  taken  ill 
on  the  road,  in  a  neighborhood  on  the  borders  of  New 
Hampshire,  and  gained  admittance  into  a  private  family 
to  remain  during  her  confinement.  The  man  who  at 
tended  her  was  not  her  husband,  but,  as  he  stated,  a 
person  employed  to  convey  her  to  her  friends  in  Ver 
mont.  And  pretending  to  give  her  name  and  residence, 
and  leaving  a  sum  of  money  with  the  family,  amply  suf 
ficient  for  the  present  support  of  the  mother  and  her 
expected  infant,  he  immediately  returned,  for  the  purpose, 
as  he  avowed,  of  apprising  her  husband  of  her  situation. 
The  young  woman  —  for  so  she  seemed  —  in  a  few  hours 
gave  birth  to  a  daughter;  not,  however,  without  the  cost 
;of  her  own  life  ;  for  she  was  soon  seized  with  a  fever 
and  delirium,  which,  in  two  or  three  days,  put  a  period 
to  her  existence.  The  infant  was  handed  over  to  nurse 
to  a  married  daughter  of  the  family,  who  resided  with 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  37 

them,  and  who  kindly  received  the  little  stranger  to  share 
with  her  own  child  that  nourishment  of  which  it  had 
been  deprived  by  the  untimely  death  of  its  mother.  After 
a  few  weeks  had  elapsed,  no  one  in  the  mean  time  ap 
pearing  to  claim  the  child,  a  letter  was  sent  to  the  ad 
dress  of  the  supposed  father,  but  without  bringing  from 
any  one  either  a  visit  or  an  answer.  Recourse  was  then 
had  to  the  postmaster  of  the  town  which  had  been  given 
as  the  residence  of  the  husband ;  and,  in  consequence, 
information  was  soon  received,  that  no  person  or  family 
of  that  name  and  description  had  ever  resided  there. 
And,  as  no  other  intelligence  was  ever  after  received  on 
the  subject,  and  neither  any  remarks  of  the  deceased 
mother,  during  the  few  hours  of  her  rationality  after  her 
arrival,  nor  any  thing  found  among  her  effects,  affording 
the  least  clew  for  unravelling  the  mystery,  the  transaction 
was  very  naturally  concluded  to  be  one  of  those  frauds 
often  practised  to  palm  off  as  respectable  some  frail  fair 
one  and  her  illegitimate  on  strangers.  The  little  inno 
cent  subject  of  these  suspicions,  thus  left  unknown  and 
unowned  among  entire  strangers,  was  not,  however,  on 
that  account  neglected.  Having  been  at  first  whimsi 
cally  termed  the  Mayflower,  and  finally  May,  from  the 
circumstance  of  her  having  been  born  on  the  first  day 
of  the  month  of  that  name,  she  received  the  kindest  at 
tention  from  the  family  till  nearly  two  years  of  age, 
when,  becoming  a  pretty  and  promising  child,  she  was 
taken  by  Martin,  who  then,  and  for  some  years  after 
wards,  resided  in  that  neighborhood,  from  which  he  re 
moved  to  his  present  residence  in  the  valley.  During 
the  first  years  of  May's  adoption,  and  till  the  removal  of 
Martin  to  Vermont,  she  was  allowed,  summer  and  win- 
4 


38  MAY    MARTIN. 

ter,  the  advantage  of  an  excellent  common  school,  in- 
which  she  was  distinguished  for  uncommon  proficiency 
for  her  age.  And  the  taste  for  reading,  which  she  here 
thus  early  acquired,  was  ever  after  maintained  and  im 
proved  by  means  of  a  choice  selection  of  books,  which 
Martin  inherited  from  his  father,  and  preserved  out  of 
respect  to  his  memory,  rather  than  for  any  pleasure  or 
profit  they  ever  afforded  him,  or  his  still  more  unlet 
tered  companion.  At  this  period  also  she  was  appar 
ently  much  beloved  by  both  Martin  and  his  wife,  and  was 
uniformly  treated  by  them  with  parental  kindness  and 
attention.  But  as  she  approached  to  womanhood,  and 
began  to  attract  the  esteem  and  admiration  of  all  who 
became  acquainted  with  her,  by  her  amiable  disposition, 
her  sprightliness  and  beauty,  this  former  manifestation 
of  kindness  on  the  part  of  Martin  and  his  wife  began 
unaccountably  to  decline  ;  and  instead  of  receiving  these 
demonstrations  of  esteem  towards  their  deserving  daugh 
ter  with  that  pride  and  gratification  which  real  parents 
would  feel,  they  seemed  to  sicken  at  the  praises  she 
received,  and  view  them  with  increasing  uneasiness, 
giving  vent  to  their  feelings,  at  last,  on  the  innocent 
and  distressed  cause  of  them,  in  such  bitterness  of 
manner  and  expression,  as  to  render  her  often  extremely 
miserable.  And  this  treatment  was  the  more  painful 
and  perplexing,  as  it  arose  from  no  avowed  or  reasona 
ble  causes,  being  founded,  probably,  in  a  sense  of  grow 
ing  inferiority,  and  a  petty  jealousy  at  the  preference 
with  which  she  was  personally  regarded,  and  the  greater 
respect  which  her  intellectual  superiority  always  com 
manded,  leaving  her  the  most  hopeless  of  all  tasks,  the 
endeavor  to  conciliate  those  whose  conduct  arises  from 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  39 

motives  they  are  ashamed  to  acknowledge,  and  whose 
dislike  has  no  other  origin  than  in  the  baseness  of  their 
own  hearts. 

A  new  era  now  occurred  in  the  life  of  May  —  the  era 
of  her  first  love.  William  Ashley,  an  intelligent  and 
enterprising  young  man,  had  been  employed  by  a  gen 
tleman  of  Massachusetts,  owning  wild  lands  in  Vermont, 
to  survey  the  tract  lying  west'of  the  settlement.  Mak 
ing  the  valley  his  head-quarters,  and  the  house  of  Mar 
tin  his  home,  Dn  his  stated  returns  from  his  laborious 
duties  in  the  woods,  he  became  interested  in  May  — 
loved  her,  and  was  soon  loved  in  return,  with  all  the 
purity  and  fervor  with  which  a  young  maiden  yields 
up  her  virgin  affections.  The  intimacy  soon  resulted 
in  an  engagement  of  marriage,  and  a  determination  on 
his  part  to  purchase  a  farm  and  settle  in  the  valley ;  to 
all  of  which  Martin  and  his  wife  either  seemed  coldly 
indifferent,  or  manifested  their  dislike  ;  though,  as  be 
fore  intimated,  they  had,  the  year  previous,  used  con 
siderable  management  to  induce  May  to  consent  to  the 
hasty  proposals  of  one  a  thousand  times  less  worthy. 
Ashley  having  now  contracted  for  a  farm,  in  pursuance 
of  his  resolution  to  settle  in  the  place,  his  time  had  since 
been  spent  in  alternately  improving  his  new  purchase, 
and  resuming  the  avocation  which  had  been  the  means 
of  introducing  him  to  the  settlement. 

Having  now  given  the  reader  a  brief  sketch  of  the 
situation  and  characters  of  the  leading  personages  of 
our  little  story,  we  \vill  return  to  the  thread  of  the  narra 
tive  where  we  left  it  for  this  digression. 


40 


MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  But  pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread,  — • 
You  seize  the  flower,  its  bloom  is  shed  ; 
Or,  like  the  snow,  falls  in  the  river, 
A  moment  white,  then  melts  forever  ; 
Or,  like  the  Borealis  race, 
That  flit  ere  you  can  point  their  place  ; 
Or,  like  the  rainbow's  lovely  form, 
Evanishing  amid  the  storm." 

AFTER  parting  from  her  lover,  May  lingered  almost 
unconsciously  some  time  in  the  vicinity  of  the  romantic 
spot  which  had  witnessed  their  adieus  —  now  listlessly 
stooping  to  pluck  some  favorite  flower,  which  peeped 
from  its  covert  beneath  her  devious  footsteps,  and  now 
pausing  to  scratch,  with  her  scissors,  the  initials  of  the 
loved  one's  name  on  the  bark  of  some  solitary  tree, 
while  her  mind  was  sweetly  occupied  with  the  pleasant 
reminiscences  of  the  past,  or  indulging  in  those  dreamy 
and  bright  imaginings  of  the  future,  which  love  and 
hope  are  forever  uniting  to  create  in  the  bosoms  of  the 
youthful.  And  it  was  nearly  sunset  before  she  was 
aroused  to  the  necessity  of  a  speedy  return  to  her  home. 
Now  quickening  her  steps,  however,  she  soon  arrived  at 
the  door,  and  was  timidly  entering  under  the  expecta 
tion  of  receiving  some  ill-natured  reprimand  from  Mar 
tin  or  his  wife,  as  was  their  wont  on  her  being  long  ab 
sent  from  her  domestic  duties,  when,  with  a  feeling 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  41 

approaching  thankfulness,  she  caught  a  glance  of  a 
third  person  in  the  room,  whom  she  took  to  be  some 
neighbor,  sitting  with  his  back  towards  her,  thinking 
that  his  presence  would  protect  her  from  the  anticipated 
rebuke,  till  the  occasion  should  be  forgotten.  But  this 
penalty  she  would  have  gladly  suffered  the  next  moment 
in  exchange  for  the  disagreeable  surprise  she  encountered ; 
for  she  had  scarcely  reached  the  interior  of  the  room  be 
fore  the  person  turned  round,  and  in  him  she  at  once 
recognized  the  man  whose  singular  conduct  she  and 
Ashley  had  lately  witnessed  with  so  much  surprise  and 
suspicion.  She  instantly  recoiled  at  the  unexpected 
discovery,  and  stood  a  moment  mute  and  abashed  before 
the  painful  scrutiny  of  his  gaze. 

"Why!  what  ails  the  girl!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Martin. 
"  A  body  would  think  she  was  afraid  of  strangers." 

"  Perhaps,  wife,"  observed  Martin,  with  a  malicious 
smile,  "  perhaps  May's  walk  has  confused  her  wits  a 
little  —  these  love-meetings  and  love-partings  are  terrible 
things  to  fluster  one  —  ain't  they,  May  ?" 

"There!"  rejoined  the  former,  in  a  tone  of  exulting 
glee,  "  there !  see  how  the  girl  blushes !  I  guess  she 
thinks  the  gentleman  may  have  seen  her  and  her  beau 
in  their  loving  rambles  across  the  pasture.  May  be,  sir," 
she  continued,  turning  to  the  stranger,  "  may  be  you  wit 
nessed  the  parting  ?  " 

"  No,  I  saw  no  one  after  leaving  the  woods  till  I  reached 
the  house,"  replied  the  man,  with  evident  uneasiness  of 
manner.  "  Did  you  pass  the  way  I  came,  miss  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  been  in  the  road,  sir,"  answered   May, 
with  as  much  calmness  as  she  could  command  in  her 
fresh   alarm  at  the   turn  which   the   conversation    now 
4* 


42  MAY    MARTIN, 

threatened  to  take,  accompanied  as  the  question  was 
with  a  tone  and  look  of  suspicion  for  which  she  could 
readily  account.  The  inquiry,  however,  to  her  great 
relief,  was  pursued  no  further,  and,  the  conversation  be 
ing  now  directed  to  other  and  indifferent  subjects,  she 
retreated  from  the  room  to  hide  her  blushes,  and  shed 
tears  of  vexation  at  the  unfeeling  and  wanton  manner 
in  which  the  secrets  of  her  heart  had  been  exposed  to  a 
stranger  —  and  that  stranger,  too,  the  very  one  of  all 
others  before  whom  she  would  have  been  most  anxious 
to  avoid  such  an  exposure,  coupled  as  it  had  been  with 
her  walk,  which  had  put  her  in  possession  of  an  un 
pleasant  secret,  as  she  feared  it  was,  respecting  him. 
How  unlucky !  she  thought.  Perhaps  even  now  she 
had  become  the  object  of  his  suspicion  and  dislike.  She 
had  intended,  before  so  unexpectedly  encountering  him 
on  her  return,  to  make  known  the  transaction  she  had 
witnessed.  But  now  should  she  do  so,  and  the  affair 
should  be  satisfactorily  explained,  she  dreaded  the  ridi 
cule  which  she  probably  must  experience  from  all  par 
ties  for  having  acted  the  spy  and  eavesdropper  —  and 
should  it  lead  to  the  detection  of  some  villany,  perhaps 
she  would  have  to  be  called  into  court  as  a  witness  —  a 
consequence  which  she  no  less  dreaded.  She  conclud 
ed,  therefore,  to  keep  the  whole  transaction  carefully 
locked,  as  a  secret,  in  her  own  bosom.  Having  come 
to  this  determination,  and  having  succeeded  by  this 
time  in  allaying  her  disturbed  feelings,  and  in  assuming, 
in  a  good  degree,  a  calm  demeanor,  she  rejoined  the 
company,  her  repugnance  to  the  stranger  being  mingled 
with  some  curiosity  to  learn  more  of  his  character,  and 
see  whether  he  would  mention  the  circumstance  which 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  43 

had  so  unfavorably  impressed  her  and  her  lover,  and  if 
so,  in  what  manner  he  would  explain  it.  But  in  this  she 
was  disappointed,  as  not  the  least  allusion  was  then,  or 
ever  afterwards,  made  by  him  to  the  transaction.  May 
soon  perceived,  however,  that  the  stranger  had  already 
made  rapid  progress  with  his  host  and  hostess  towards 
gaining  the  footing  of  a  familiar  acquaintance ;  and  it 
was  with  some  surprise  that  she  learnt  that  he  was  to 
become,  for  the  present,  an  inmate  in  the  family.  He 
had  introduced  himself,  it  appeared,  by  the  name  of 
Gow,  stating  that  he  was  travelling  with  the  view  of 
purchasing  lands  ;  and  having  heard  that  Harwood  set 
tlement  presented  good  inducements  to  purchasers,  he 
had  now  accordingly  paid  it  a  visit  for  this  purpose.  This 
avowal  had  led  to  a  proffer  of  assistance,  on  the  part  of 
Martin,  to  further  the  object  of  the  stranger,  and  soon  to 
a  compliance  with  the  request  of  the  latter  to  take  up 
his  abode  in  the  family  while  he  remained  in  the  place. 
Such  was  the  ostensible  object  of  the  stranger's  visit. 
This  information  May  gathered  from  her  mother  in  the 
absence  of  the  gentlemen,  who,  after  supper,  had  taken 
a  long  ramble  across  the  farm  in  the  twilight  of  the  de 
licious  evening.  But  the  truth  of  the  account,  which 
the  man  had  thus  given  of  himself,  she  felt  much  dis 
posed  to  discredit ;  for  though  the  story  was  simple  and 
reasonable  enough  in  itself,  she  yet  was  wholly  unable 
to  reconcile  it,  in  her  mind,  with  what  she  had  wit 
nessed  ;  and  the  more  she  reflected  on  the  subject,  the 
stronger  became  her  suspicion  that  there  was  something 
wrong  in  his  character,  and  something  which  he  was 
making  an  effort  to  conceal.  During  the  course  of  the 
evening,  May  found  frequent  opportunities  for  examin- 


44  MAY  MARTIN, 

ing  the  personal  appearance  of  Gow  (for  by  that  name 
we  shall  now  call  him)  more  closely  than  she  had  before 
the  means  of  doing.  Though  young,  he  was  evidently 
considerably  hackneyed  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  and 
seemed  well  versed  in  the  ordinary  modes  of  flattery, 
and  the  art  of  insinuating  himself  into  the  good  graces 
of  strangers.  His  exterior  was  good,  and  his  demeanor, 
with  ordinary  observers,  might  have  been  prepossessing. 
But  those  who  scrutinized  him  more  closely  might 
easily  have  detected  a  hollowness  in  his  manner,  which 
showed  that  the  heart  was  taking  but  little  part  in  the 
wheedling  language  of  the  tongue,  and  a  sort  of  ques 
tionable  expression  in  the  glances  of  his  restless  eye, 
which,  like  the  savage  foe  in  the  woods,  seemed  to  avoid 
open  encounter,  and  to  be  continually  skulking  away  and 
back,  under  the  steady  gaze  of  the  beholder,  as  if  guard 
ing  hidden  motives  with  a  constant  apprehensiveness  of 
their  detection.  Such,  at  least,  were  the  impressions  of 
May,  whose  scrutiny,  instead  of  lessening,  had  now  in 
creased  the  dislike  she  had  conceived  towards  this  person. 
Besides,  she  was  not  altogether  pleased  with  his  manner 
towards  herself.  It  was  evident,  from  his  remarks,  that 
his  inquiries  concerning  her  had  been  already  very  par 
ticular  ;  and  he  seemed  to  address  her  with  too  much  of 
the  air  of  an  old  acquaintance.  In  short,  she  felt,  she 
scarcely  knew  why,  that  he  had  some  preconcerted  object 
in  view  some  way  connected  with  herself.  And  she  re 
tired  to  rest  that  night  with  sensations  of  displeasure, 
and  with  a  disquietude  of  feeling  that  she  had  never 
before  experienced. 

While    such   thoughts   and    undefined    apprehensions 
were   agitating  the  guileless   bosom   of   May,  the  disa- 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


greeable  object  of  her  reflections  was  occupied  in  an 
other  apartment,  to  which  he  also  had  retired  for  the 
night,  in  writing  a  letter  to  an  absent  associate.  For 
the  benefit  of  the  reader,  we  take  an  author's  privilege 
of  looking  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  Col.,  here  I  am,  snug  at  Martin's,  where  I 
am  to  remain,  at  present,  gentleman  land-looker,  as  I 
call  myself,  till  I  put  other  business  in  train.  I  arrived 
this  afternoon,  —  sooner  by  some  days  than  I  expected, 
—  having  come  not  slow,  most  of  the  way,  I  assure  you. 
The  honest  fact  is,  I  bought  a  horse  at  the  end  of  the 
first  day's  journey.  '  Bought! '  you  will  say  ;  yes,  of  an 
old  white  cow  I  ran  afoul  of  in  the  stable.  '  What  a 
madcap ! '  you  will  exclaim,  '  thus  to  endanger  the 
success  of  our  honest  speculation.'  But  the  fact  was, 
Col.,  I  was  getting  on  too  slow  for  my  disposition,  and  — 
and  I  could  not  help  it.  But  the  animal  fell  down  and 
died  just  as  I  was  coming  into  the  settlement;  and  I 
rolled  him  off  a  ledge  into  the  brook,  where  he  won't  en 
joy  much  more  society,  I  am  thinking,  but  that  of  the 
fishes  and  foxes,  till  he  is  pretty  well  distributed.  So  no 
danger  from  that  little  frolic.  Now,  for  the  girl ;  she  is 
here,  and  no  common  affair  neither,  I  assure  you !  Well 
formed,  handsome,  and  knowing,  —  indeed,  I  fear  me, 
she  knows  rather  too  much,  —  at  least,  that  soul-reading 
sort  of  look  of  hers,  I  plainly  see,  will  require  a  pretty 
thick  mask.  Besides,  Martin  tells  me  she  is  engaged  to 
a  young  farmer,  lately  settled  here,  but  who,  luckily, 
started  a  journey  for  two  months,  just  before  1  arrived. 
So,  you  see,  I  have  got  to  push  matters  rather  briskly ; 
and  it  will  be  a  hard  case  if  she  don't  find  herself  Mrs. 
Gow  before  the  fellow  returns.  Lord !  if  she  knew  but 


46  MAY    MARTIN, 

her  own  secret,  or  mine,  I  might  as  well  try  to  catch  a 
lark  in  the  sky  by  whistling. 

"  As  to  the  other  part  of  our  projected  scheme,  I  am 
sure  it  will  work  well.  Martin,  whom,  in  my  rapid 
way  of  doing  things,  I  have  sounded  in  all  shapes,  in 
forms  me  that  it  is  generally  believed  here  that  money 
or  precious  metals  lie  hid  in  these  mountains  ;  and  I 
have  already  hinted  my  natural  faculties  in  seeing  in 
the  magic  stone,*  (the  wronders  of  which  I  find  are  still 

*  The  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  stone,  in  which 
certain  individuals  possess  the  faculty  of  discovering  things  hidden  or 
unknown  to  them  before,  formerly  prevailed  to  some  extent  in  many 
parts  of  this  country.  Nor  has  this  alleged  faculty  by  any  means 
wholly  ceased  to  find  believers  at  the  present  time.  As  one  among  the 
several  instances  of  which  I  have  heard,  I  will  mention  that  of  a  fe 
male  pretender  of  this  class,  who,  establishing  herself  in  one  of  the 
central  towns  of  the  state,  a  few  years  past,  drew  multitudes  around 
her,  some  coming  to  consult  her  respecting  the  situation  of  lost  or 
stolen  goods,  some  to  ascertain  the  existence  of  suspected  ores  or 
mines,  and  some,  and  perhaps  the  greater  part,  to  put  her  pretended 
faculties  to  such  tests  as  they  might  severally  contrive.  And  among 
the  latter  class,  not  a  few,  it  must  be  confessed,  became  sorely  puzzled 
to  account  for  the  singularly  correct  hits  she  made,  on  looking  into 
her  magic  stone,  in  regard  to  the  situation  of  their  families  at  home, 
or  other  objects,  of  which  they  believed  it  impossible  she  could  have 
any  previous  knowledge. 

The  kinds  of  stones  used  by  these  practitioners  appear  to  be  differ 
ent.  The  one  used  by  the  woman  above  named  was  a  bright,  trans 
lucent  stone,  of  the  size  and  shape  of  a  common  razor  hone ;  while 
that  used  by  the  Money  Diggers  of  our  tale  was  round,  flat,  and 
opaque.  The  manner  of  using  them  consists  in  putting  them  into  a 
hat,  placing  the  face  into  the  crown,  and  fixing  the  mind  intently  on 
the  object  of  inquiry,  when  a  mental  view  is  said  to  be  obtained. 

Although  this  alleged  faculty  passes  among  most  of  the  intelligent 
as  one  of  the  humbugs  of  ignorance  or  superstition,  yet  why  is  its 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  47 

believed  in,  among  them,)  and  in  working  the  divining 
rods.  Both  of  these  marvellous  implements  I  shall  very 
naturally  find  in  a  day  or  two,  probably;  when  I  shall 
open  the  golden  prospect  to  Martin's  greedy  eyes,  and  if 
it  takes,  as  we  may  safely  swear  it  will,  I  shall  com 
mence  operations  immediately.  So,  old  boy,  you  may 
come  on  with  your  traps,  as  soon  as  you  receive  this,  for 
I  shall  want  you  at  all  events. 

"  I  will  look  out  the  old  cave  you  described  in  the 
mountains,  and  have  all  things  in  readiness  by  the  time 
you  arrive. 

"  Yours  in  rascality,  truly, 

«  Gow." 

reality  more  improbable  than  what  is  termed  the  clairvoyant  state  of 
animal  magnetism,  which  has  gained  so  many  believers  among  the  in 
telligent,  and  which  is  now  striving  for  a  place  among  the  sciences  ? 
Indeed,  should  the  latter  be  ever  well  established,  I  should  be  much 
inclined  to  place  myself  among  the  believers  of  the  former,  which 
perhaps  might  be  explained  on  the  principle,  that  the  performers  on  the 
magic  stone  have  the  power  of  throwing  their  minds  into  the  clairvoy 
ant  state,  so  that  they  can  perceive  whatever  they  choose  of  all  that 
is  passing  without  the  scope  of  the  senses,  in  the  same  manner  in 
which  it  is  said  some  do,  whose  whole  system  is  put  under  the  mes 
meric  influence. 


48  MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  Gold  sowed  the  world  with  every  ill ; 
Gold  taught  the  murdering  sword  to  kill ; 
'Twas  gold  instructed  coward  hearts 
In  treachery's  more  pernicious  arts." 

THE  next  day  was  spent  by  Martin  and  his  new  ac 
quaintance  in  the  woods,  the  former  acting  as  guide,  as 
they  rambled  over  the  adjacent  tracts  of  wild  land  in 
furtherance  of  the  professed  object  of  the  latter's  sojourn 
in  the  valley.  The  next,  and  the  next,  found  them 
engaged  in  the  same  employment,  to  the  great  wonder 
ment  of  May,  who,  knowing  from  the  course  taken  by 
them,  and  from  their  returns  to  their  daily  meal  at 
noon,  that  their  excursions  were  always  short  and  in 
the  same  direction,  could  not  understand  the  use  of  so 
much  exploring  for  a  general  examination  of  a  few  lots 
of  land.  She  was  also  led  to  notice,  that  a  deep  inti 
macy  was  growing  between  them;  and  she  soon  per 
ceived  that  they  were  engaged  in  some  secret  purpose,  far 
different  from  that  by  which  they  pretended  to  be  occupied. 
Gow  affected,  in  the  presence  of  the  family,  a  knowing 
silence  on  the  subject  of  their  employment,  and  fre 
quently  pretended  to  check  his  friend  as  the  latter  began 
to  throw  out  hints  about  new  houses,  improvements,  and 
purchases,  which  seemed  to  imply  a  sudden  change  in 
his  circumstances.  All  this,  however,  would  have  but 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  49 

little  interested  our  heroine,  and  might  have  passed  un 
heeded  by  her,  had  she  not  motives  of  her  own  for  watch 
ing  Gow's  conduct,  whose  character,  from  the  first,  she 
had  so  much  reason  to  regard  with  suspicion,  and  whose 
increasing  attentions  to  herself,  which  could  now  no  longer 
be  mistaken  for  ordinary  courtesy,  and  which  grew  every 
day  more  and  more  annoying,  furnished  her  additional 
reasons  for  wishing  to  fathom  his  designs. 

But  it  is  time,  perhaps,  to  apprise  the  reader  more 
fully  of  the  project  in  which  Gow  had  enlisted  Martin. 

At  the  foot  of  a  lofty  mountain  in  the  woods,  about  a 
mile  north-westerly  of  Martin's  house,  a  few  days  after 
Gow's  arrival,  these  two  personages  might  be  seen  seated 
on  a  fallen  tree,  the  one  with  his  face  protruded  into  his 
hat,  which  he  held  in  his  lap,  seemingly  gazing  at  some 
thing  at  the  bottom,  while  the  other  was  attentively 
listening  to  the  remarks  which,  at  intervals,  fell  from 
the  former.  The  dialogue,  which  now  ensued  between 
them,  will  sufficiently  explain  the  nature  of  their  em 
ployment. 

"  Are  you  quite  certain,  Mr.  Gow,  that  you  have  at 
last  found  the  real,  genuine  sort  of  stone  which  you 
have  this  wonderful  faculty  of  seeing  things  in  ? " 

"  O,  quite  sure.  It  is  the  same  thin,  oval,  yellow, 
speckled  kind  of  stone  I  used  when  I  discovered  the  pot 
of  money  on  Cape  Cod  that  they  supposed  Kidd  buried 
there.  How  provoking  to  get  only  one  hundred  dollars 
for  that  job,  when  I  might  have  gone  shares  with  the 
men  who  employed  me,  had  I  chosen  it !  But  the  fact 
was,  Martin,  I  was  not  at  that  time  entirely  certain  that 
I  possessed  this  faculty  to  so  great  an  extent  as  I  after 
wards  found." 

5 


50  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  But  what  can  be  the  reason  that  you  cannot  see  in 
the  stone  at  one  time  as  well  as  another?" 

"  No  one  can  exactly  tell.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  has 
the  faculty,  and  is  deeply  skilled  in  these  matters,  sup 
poses  it  is  the  devil  that  casts  a  mist  before  the  stone  to 
hide  what  otherwise  might  be  discovered ;  and  this  may 
be  the  case ;  or  it  is  possible  that  it  may  have  some  con 
nection  with  the  weather,  or  state  of  the  air.  I  had  a 
beautiful  clear  view  the  first  time  I  tried  the  stone,  after 
finding  it  this  morning,  but  as  my  mind  was  running  on 
scenes  in  my  own  country,  I  made  no  discoveries  of  any 
thing  hereabouts;  for  the  view  had  faded  away  before  I 
could  turn  my  thoughts  to  this  spot.  One  must  keep 
his  mind  intently  fixed  on  what  he  expects  to  discover, 
and  wait  with  patience  till  the  stone  clears,  and  then,  if 
there  is  any  thing  to  be  found,  he  will  be  sure  to  see  it, 
and  all  the  objects  by  which  it  is  surrounded." 

"  How  wonderful !  By  heavens !  if  I  only  had  the  fac 
ulty,  I_» 

"  Hush  —  hush,  Martin,  it  begins  to  clear." 
"Does    it?      Mind    and    keep   your  thoughts   on    the 
mountain,  Gow.     Do  you  see  any  thing  yet?" 

"  Nothing  distinctly  yet ;  nothing  but  woods,  and  high 
hills  with  light,  misty  clouds  resting  on  them  in  broken 
masses,  which  seem  to  be  dividing  and  slowly  moving 
off.  Stay!  what  peak  is  that  which  rises  in  sight? 
Zounds!  Martin,  it  clears  every  instant;  and  I  can 
plainly  distinguish  the  very  mountain  we  are  under. 
Look  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  towards  the  north. 
Now  see  if  you  discover  a  tall,  dry  tree  —  pine,  I  should 
think  —  standing  just  above  a  bare  rock." 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  51 

"  Yes,  there  is  the  very  tree,  as  I  live ;  and  the  rock, 
too,  by  Jupiter !  But  do  you  see  any  thing  else  ?  " 

"  Be  easy  a  moment;  I  just  caught  a  glance  of  some 
thing  glimmering  farther  down;  but  it  appears  to  be 
gone  now.  There!  I  have  it  again  —  right  below  the 
tree  ;  but  down,  down  to  the  very  foot  of  the  mountain. 
Now  it  comes,  brighter  than  ever  —  something  of  a  white, 
shining  appearance.  Silver!  silver!  Martin,  as  true  as 
I  am  a  sinner,  coined  dollars  of  silver,  deep  under  ground  !  " 

"  O  heavens  and  earth  ! "  exclaimed  Martin,  leaping 
up  and  rubbing  his  hands  -in  ecstasy  ;  "  but  mark  the 
spot,  Gow,  where  it  lies  mr  be  sure  to  mark  the  spot." 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  other,  taking  his  face  from  his 
hat;  "  the  view  has  all  died  away,  now,  and  I  shall  not, 
probably,  get  another  at  this  time.  But  what  a  glorious 
sight !  O,  my  stars,  if  you  could  have  seen  it !  The 
first  day  we  were  out  here,  when  I  strayed  from  you, 
as  you  remember  I  did,  I  cut  and  tried  a  divining  rod  ; 
and,  from  the  working  of  it  in  my  hand,  I  became  satis 
fied  that  there  was  a  treasure  near  this  mountain,  as  1 
afterwards  hinted  to  you,  but  I  certainly  never  dreamed 
of  such  a  mint  of  coined  money.  But  come,  let  us  go 
to  the  spot  and  put  some  private  marks  on  the  trees,  as 
near  the  place  as  we  can  hit  by  guess." 

So  saying,  Gow  pocketed  his  magic  speculum,  and, 
hastily  setting  out  for  the  place  just  designated  as  the 
spot  where  the  treasure  lay  concealed,  they  soon  came 
opposite  to  the  tall  tree  and  rock  before  mentioned,  and 
halted  close  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

"  There,"  exclaimed  Gow,  looking  around,  and  meas 
uring  the  spot  with  his  eye,  "  there,  Martin,  within  the 
compass  of  one  acre  around  us,  I  will  stake  my  life, 


52  MAY    MARTIN, 

there  lie  buried  beneath  the  ground  more  than  ten  thou 
sand  hard  dollars  ;  but,"  he  continued,  with  a  look  of 
mysterious  gravity,  "  but  it  may  require  much  time  and 
labor  to  find  it;  and  we  may  have  to  fight  dead  men  and 
devils  before  we  get  fairly  hold  of  it." 

"  I  will  agree  to  fight  both,  to  their  teeth,  to  get  hold 
of  a  tenth  part  of  that  sum,"  cried  the  other,  in  boastful 
rapture. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Gow,  "  we  will  now  begin  to  think 
of  the  project  in  good  earnest.  But  as  it  will  take  much 
hard  digging,  probably,  to  reach  the  treasure,  —  more, 
doubtless,  than  we,  with  our  single  hands,  can  ever  ex 
pect  to  do,  —  we  shall  be  compelled  to  form  a  small 
company  of  four  or  five  trusty  individuals,  beside  our 
selves,  and  then  we  shall  be  able  to  do  business  to  some 
effect," 

"  Why,  yes ;  but  cannot  we  get  along  without  this  ?  " 
said  the  avaricious  Martin.  "  We  might  then  have  all 
the  money  to  ourselves." 

"  Ay,  ay,  if  we  could,  and  that  were  all ;  but  you  must 
know  that  there  are  some  conditions  to  be  complied  with 
in  this  business ;  for  besides  their  labor,  which  we  shall 
need,  you  forget  that  I  cannot  exercise  my  skill,  in  mak 
ing  you  rich,  for  nothing ;  and  you  will  hardly  be  willing, 
or  able,  alone,  to  raise  the  sum  I  shall  make  you  agree  to 
give  me  before  I  go  on." 

"  How  much  ?  "  asked  the  other,  with  symptoms  of 
alarm. 

"  Not  less  than  five  hundred  dollars." 

"  What!  five  hundred  dollars,  and  go  shares,  too  ?M 

"  Exactly.  If  I  only  went  shares,  what  should  I  get 
for  my  skill?" 


OR    THE    MOIVEY    DIGGER*.  53 

"  Yes,  but  five  hundred  dollars !  it  is  extortion,  Gow, 
rank  extortion  !  and  I  won't  give  it ;  I  will  go  alone  first." 

"  Go  on  then,"  said  Gow,  with  a  cool  sneer,  "  and  we 
will  see  how  much  you  will  make  by  money  digging 
without  me." 

"  I  did  not  mean  any  offence,  Mr.  Gow,"  rejoined  Mar 
tin,  in  an  apologetic  tone,  seeing  the  determined  man 
ner  of  the  other,  and  fearful  of  pushing  matters  too  far 
with  him ;  "  I  meant  no  sort  of  offence,  but  how  can  I 
raise  such  a  sum  ?  " 

"  True,"  said  Gow,  "  I  knew  you  coukl  not,  and  there 
fore  had  an  additional  reason  for  proposing  to  form  a 
company;  and  this  we  must  do  —  one  hundred  dollars 
apiece  will  then  be  all  that  is  required." 

"  And  one  hundred  is  more  than  I  know  how  to  raise," 
observed  Martin,  despondingly. 

"  I  shall  be  fair  with  the  company,"  said  the  other, 
without  seeming  to  heed  the  last  remark  of  Martin.  "  I 
shall  be  honorable,  and  to  sbow  them  that  there  is  no 
deception  in  the  business,  I  will  not  require  them  to 
hand  over  the  money  till  the  first  dollar  of  the  treasure 
is  found ;  and  then,  before  the  treasure  is  opened,  they 
must,  have  it  in  readiness  to  pay  over  on  the  spot,  and 
let  me  go  equal  shares  in  all  that  is  found.  These  will 
be  my  conditions." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  why  that  is  not  all  fair." 

"  And  hark'ee,  friend  Martin ;  there  is  one  way  by 
which  I  might,  perhaps,  let  you  off  from  paying  the  hun 
dred  dollars,  or  even  any  thing  —  if  I  thought  —  if< — " 

"  If  what  ?"  eagerly  asked  the  other  —  "  if  there  is  such 
a  chance  for  me,  for  heaven's  sake  let  me  know  it —  any 
thing  that  I  can  do  —  " 
5* 


54  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Yes,  yes,  Martin,  but  there  is  the  trouble,  perhaps, 
—  for  I  fear  you  cannot  do  me  the  favor  I  was  thinking 
of,  if  you  would  ;  and  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  ask 
your  interference  —  but  I  can  name  the  case,  and  then 
you  can  tell  me,  if  you  please,  what  your  notions  are  on 
the  subject.  You  may  have  already  perceived,  perhaps, 
that  I  have  taken  a  fancy  to  your  adopted  daughter, 
May  Martin  —  " 

"  Why,  yes  ;  but  what  do  you  want  of  her  ?  It  would 
give  me  a  bad  name,  if  I  should  have  my  hand  in  — " 

"  O,  you  quite  mistake  my  intentions.  As  I  said,  I  have 
taken  a  fancy  to  the  girl,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind, 
even  on  our  short  acquaintance,  to  make  a  wife  of  her, 
if  she  will  marry  me ;  but  she  appears  to  be  shy,  and 
I  suspect  is  determined  to  refuse  any  offers  I  may  make 
her.  Now,  if,  in  this  business,  you  feel  disposed  to  as 
sist  me  — " 

"  O,  if  that  is  all,  I  will  use  all  my  influence  to  persuade 
her  to  accept  your  offer." 

"  Yes,  that  you  of  course  would  do,  if  you  felt  dis 
posed  to  favor  my  suit,  But  can't  you  so  manage  as  to 
warrant  my  success  ?  Now,  what  I  was  going  to  say 
was  this  :  if  you  will  insure  me  the  girl,  I  will  release 
you  from  paying  me  a  cent  in  this  affair ;  that  is,  if  you 
will  bring  it  about  within  a  month." 

"  A  month!  —  that  is  a  short  time  —  why  such  haste?" 

"  Why,  it  is  always  my  way  to  do  things  at,  a  dash. 
1  may  as  well  marry  now  as  ever ;  and  I  trust  we  shall 
reach  the  treasure  by  that  time  at  least ;  when  you,  oth 
erwise,  would  have  to  pay  me  over  the  money." 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten  that.  Well,  we  will  see  what 
can  be  done.  But  how  on  earth  to  bring  it  about  I 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  55 

know  not.  She  is  engaged  to  that  Ashley,  as  you  heard 
my  wife  say,  and  no  doubt  is  determined  to  marry  him, 
let  who  will  come.  And  he  —  he  too  is  a  bold,  straight- 
going  fellow,  who  would  not  stand  aside  for  a  regiment." 

«  But  he  is  absent." 

v "  Yes,  and  that  is  lucky  so  far.  If  she  could  be  weaned 
from  him,  before  his  return ;  and  she  did  not  write  to 
bring  him  back  upon  us  — " 

"  O,  the  last  can  be  managed ;  but  will  he  write 
to  her?" 

"  I  presume  so ;  but  why  that  question  ?  " 

"  I  merely  asked  out  of  curiosity.  But  who  brings 
her  letters  from  the  village,  where  they  come,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  shall,  probably,  myself.     Why  ?  " 

"  Now  suppose  you  should  withhold  the  letter,  and 
never  let  her  know  any  had  come  for  her?" 

"  That  might  have  effect  in  making  her  think  she  was 
neglected,  perhaps." 

"  And  supposing  you  should  let  me  take  the  letter  and 
write  her  one  in  imitation  of  his  hand,  sign  his  name, 
and  let  you  give  it  to  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  there  would  be  no  cheating  her,  in  this  way 
—  sh^  is  as  keen  as  a  razor — I  have  sometimes  thought 
she  could  tell  my  very  thoughts,  the  prying  hussy!" 

"  But  I  could  cheat  her,  though.  I  am  handy  with 
the  pen,  and  could  once  imitate  any  hand,  so  that  the 
writer  himself  could  not  tell  which  was  his  own." 

"  That  would  be  rather  roguish,  would  it  not,  Gow  ? 
Besides,  when  Ashley  returned,  he  would  raise  Ned  with 
you  for  such  a  trick." 

"  Why,  I  should  calculate  to  make  you  a  rich  man, 
take  the  girl  and  be  off  to  my  own  country,  long  bjforc 


56  MAY    MARTIX, 

he  came  back.  But  I  see  you  are  not  disposed  to  help 
me  and  yourself  in  this  business — " 

"  O,  you  are  mistaken  ;  I  was  only  contriving;  and  I 
begin  to  think  we  can  manage  it ;  and  if  you  intend  to 
take  her  out  of  the  country,  wife  will  lend  a  stiff  hand, 
depend  on't.  She  thinks  May  is  quite  too  knowing, 
considering,  and  will  soon  get  above  us  all;  and  to  tell 
the  truth,  I  have  lately  had  a  sort  of  a  notion  that  the 
girl  would  bring  some  bad  luck  to  us,  in  one  shape  or 
other.  But  take  her  away  from  this  place,  and  she  will 
make  a  smart  wife  enough,  I  dare  say.  Gow,  she  shall 
be  yours,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  and  there's  my  hand 
on  it," 

This  last  point  being  settled  to  the  mutual  satisfac 
tion  of  these  worthy  personages,  they  then  proceeded  to 
discuss  and  settle  the  details  of  the  plan  of  operations 
proposed  by  Gow  for  coming  at  the  buried  treasure ;  the 
result  of  which  was,  that  Martin  should  take  upon  him 
self  the  task  of  forming  a  company  from  such  of  his 
neighbors  as  he  should  select,  as  most  trusty  and  best 
fitted  for  the  enterprise.  The  work  was  to  be  com 
menced  as  soon  as  a  company  could  be  formed ;  to  be 
carried  on  in  the  night,  and  with  all  possible  secrecy. 
Gow  was  to  superintend  and  direct  the  whole  business. 
And  for  the  purpose,  as  he  told  Martin,  of  guarding  the 
spot,  and  always  being  near  to  catch  every  view,  which 
was  to  be  had  from  his  magic  stone,  and  of  making 
frequent  trials  with  the  divining  rod,  he  was  to  erect  a 
shanty,  on  some  part  of  the  mountain  above,  for  his 
chief  residence,  till  the  treasure  was  found,  where  no 
one  was  to  presume,  on  any  account,  to  approach  him, 
pretending  that  he  could  only  make  his  discoveries  to 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  57 

any  advantage  when  entirely  alone.  Here  he  was  to 
be  supplied  with  provisions,  &c.,  from  Martin's  house,  to 
which  he  should  only  repair  for  the  purpose  of  prose 
cuting  his  suit  with  May.  Their  whole  plan  being  thus 
adjusted,  they  returned  to  the  house  with  the  under 
standing  that  each  should  proceed  to  his  allotted  part 
on  the  following  morning. 


MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER   V. 

"  May  horror  seize  his  midnight  hour 
Who  builds  upon  a  parent's  power, 
And  claims  by  purchase,  vile  and  base, 
The  loathing  maid  for  his  embrace. 
Hence  virtue  sickens  ;  and  the  breast, 
Where  peace  had  built  her  downy  nest, 
Becomes  the  troubled  seat  of  care, 
And  pines  with  anguish  and  despair." 

FROM  this  time  every  means  was  tried,  and  every  art 
put  in  requisition  by  Martin  and  his  wife,  to  forward  the 
projected  match  between  Gow  and  their  adopted  daugh^ 
ter.  Their  first  attempts  were  confined  to  endeavors  to 
impress  her  with  favorable  sentiments  towards  her  new 
lover,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  prejudice  her  mind 
against  Ashley,  and  destroy  the  high  estimation  in 
which  they  well  knew  she  deservedly  held  him.  But 
not  long  resting  satisfied  with  their  progress,  in  this  in 
direct  method  of  accomplishing  their  base  purpose,  they 
soon  proceeded  to  open  importunities,  using  every  per 
suasion  to  induce  her  to  yield  to  their  wish,  and  exhaust 
ing  every  argument  their  ingenuity  could  invent,  which 
they  thought  likely  to  shake  her  still  unaltered  purpose 
of  fidelity  to  her  betrothed  lover,  and  turn  her  mind  to 
the  man  of  their  worse  than  mercenary  choice. —  some 
times  setting  before  her  glowing  pictures  of  the  wealth 
and  splendor  to  be  gained  by  a  union  with  Gow,  and 
then  contrasting  this  with  the  life  of  labor  and  obscurity 


OR     THE     MONEY     DIGGERS.  59 

which  they  told  her  must  be  her  certain  lot  if  she  mar 
ried  Ashley ;  sometimes  resorting  to  flattery,  followed  by 
abject  entreaties  ;  and  sometimes  to  menaces  and  bitter 
denunciations,  in  case  she  finally  refused  to  comply  with 
their  wishes  and  commands  ;  till  the  poor  girl  felt  as  if 
she  must  sink  under  their  united  persecution.  With  the 
object  of  this  unwearied  intercession  himself,  she  succeed 
ed  much  easier  in  securing  herself  from  annoyance.  He 
had  by  this  time  proposed  himself  in  direct  terms,  and  had 
received  a  decided  and  unqualified  refusal ;  and  the  sim 
ple  majesty  of  innocence,  and  virtuous  rectitude  of  pur 
pose,  all  unprotected  and  discountenanced,  as  they  were, 
on  all  sides,  conveyed  a  rebuke,  before  which,  with  all  his 
assurance,  he  could  not  help  quailing.  And  he  shrank 
from  the  cold  dignity  of  her  presence,  leaving  her  mostly 
unmolested  by  open  attempts  to  soften  her  obduracy, 
choosing  rather  to  rely  on  intrigue  and  deception,  to 
effect  a  design,  which  he  was  well  aware  any  manly  or 
honorable  course  would  fail  of  accomplishing.  But  this 
new  and  unexpected  attempt  of  Martin  and  his  wife, 
situated  as  she  was,  to  control  her  inclination,  and  in 
duce  her  to  violate  her  plighted  faith,  was  much  less 
easily  combated,  and  doubly  enhanced  her  distress  and 
perplexity.  Their  motives  for  this  cruel  conduct,  she 
soon  rightly  conjectured,  must  arise  from  some  advantage 
to  be  gained  by  the  success  of  their  endeavors  —  some 
tempting  condition,  by  which  Gow  had  bribed  them  ; 
but  why  any  such  advantage,  or  bribe,  should  be  offered 
by  the  latter,  she  was  wholly  at  a  loss  to  imagine.  She 
felt  satisfied  that  his  anxiety  to  obtain  her  hand  did  not 
proceed  from  any  love  which  he  had  so  hastily  enter 
tained  for  her  ;  and  much  less  could  it  arise,  she  thought, 


60  MAY     MARTIN, 

from  any  pecuniary  or  other  advantage  to  be  gained  by 
marrying  a  penniless  and  obscure  orphan.  But  that 
such  was  his  determined  purpose  she  could  no  longer 
doubt ;  and  it  was  equally  clear  to  her  that  her  parents 
were  closely  leagued  with  him  in  the  -design.  The 
neighbors,  too,  it  was  apparent,  from  their  jokes  and  in 
direct  advice  to  her,  in  their  intercourse  with  the  family, 
had  been  biased  by  the  account  which  they  had  received 
of  the  new  comer,  and  had  already  arrayed  themselves 
on  his  side,  and  stood  ready  to  advocate  his  cause. 
While  the  reluctance  she  had  conceived  to  divulge  what 
she  knew  of  him,  or  to  say  aught  to  his  disadvantage,  as 
long  as  he  was  a  favored  inmate  of  her  family,  mingled 
with  a  delicacy  of  feeling,  forbidding  her  to  discuss  the 
character  of  an  avowed  lover,  all  combined  to  prevent 
her  from  trying  to  undeceive  her  acquaintance  in  their 
opinion  of  Gow,  or  to  make  known  to  any  one  the 
wretchedness  and  difficulty  of  her  situation.  And  had 
she  attempted  this,  and  made  known  her  difficulty,  she 
knew  not  that  it  would  avail  in  changing  the  popular 
current,  which  she  saw  was  now  setting  in  favor  of  Gow, 
or  in  alleviating  her  embarrassments.  She  resolved, 
therefore,  to  endure  in  silence,  and  though  alone  and  un 
friended,  to  persevere,  in  her  unshaken  determination  of 
resistance,  till  the  return  of  Ashley  should  put  an  end  to 
her  sorrows  and  troubles. 

"  What  great  object  do  you  propose  to  gain,  May  ?" 
said  Martin  one  day  during  this  ceaseless  warfare  against 
the  peace  and  happiness  of  the  persecuted  girl  —  "  what 
great  object  do  you  propose  to  gain  by  rejecting  such  a 
man  as  Mr.  Gow,  and  accepting  such  a  fellow  as 
Ashley?" 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  61 

"  I  shall  at  least  gain  the  approbation  of  my  own  con 
science,  father ;  for  I  have  promised  him  solemnly,  and 
he  told  me  that  he  had  your  consent." 

"  I  might  have  said  something  of  the  kind,  perhaps, 
when  I  supposed  you  could  do  no  better ;  but  these  fool 
ish  promises  which  boys  and  girls  make  to  each  other,  — 
what  do  they  amount  to  ?  And  how  long  does  either 
party  hesitate  about  breaking  them,  when,  finding  they 
can  do  better  with  themselves,  they  wish  to  make  an 
other  choice  ?  " 

"  But  I  have  no  wish  to  make  another  choice  ;  and  if  I 
had,  I  hardly  think  I  should  gain  much  by  the  change 
you  propose." 

"  You  don't  pretend  to  compare  Ashley  to  Mr.  Gow, 
do  you?" 

"  Certainly  I  should  not  wish  to  compare  him  to  this 
suspicious  man  —  " 

"  What  do  you  mean, girl?  Would  you  insinuate  any 
thing  against  the  character  of  Mr.  Gow  —  a  gentleman, 
and  a  friend  of  mine,  as  he  is  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  say  any  thing  about  him  ;  but  friend 
or  gentleman,  as  you  may  believe  him,  you  would  be 
much  better  employed,  I  suspect,  in  guarding  yourself 
against  his  arts,  than  in  trying  to  drive  a  poor,  friendless, 
and  unprotected  girl  into  his  clutches." 

"  What  mean  you,  May  Martin,  once  more  I  ask  ?  " 
sternly  demanded  he,  stamping  on  the  floor.  "  What 
reasons  for  your  scandalous  insinuations  can  you  give  ? 
Speak  —  tell  them  if  you  have  any.  No  wonder  you 
hesitate  ;  for  you  have  none  to  give  —  'tis  all  but  a  fool 
ish,  stubborn  girl's  whim  —  prejudice  against  a  man  who 
loves  you,  but  who  is  too  good  for  you,  and  condescends 


62  MAY    MARTIN, 

too  much  in  wishing  to  make  you  rich  and  happy.  I 
tell  you,  girl,  you  must  marry  him !  " 

"  O,  I  cannot,  father  —  never,  never !  " 

"  You  won't,  then,  will  you  ?  You  forget  that  you  are 
not  of  age  yet,  and  that  I  have  an  indenture  in  that  desk 
that  puts  you  completely  under  my  control  ?" 

"  I  forget  nothing,  sir.  I  know  my  duty,  and  have  al 
ways  endeavored  to  do  it ;  and  can  you  say  as  much 
respecting  the  cruel  course  you  are  now  pursuing  towards 
me  ?  Does  that  paper,  to  which  you  so  insultingly  al 
lude,  give  you  the  power  to  dispose  of  me  in  marriage, 
without  my  consent,  and  against  my  inclinations  ?  " 

"  Hush,  impudent ! "  vociferated  Martin,  again  stamp 
ing  in  rage.  "  A  lecture  on  my  duty,  hey  ?  Fine  times, 
I  should  think!" 

"  May  don't  remember,"  chimed  in  Mrs.  Martin,  with 
a  spiteful  leer  and  taunting  tone  —  "  May  don't  remember 
who  took  her  when  she  was  a  little  ragged  outcast,  that 
no  father  would  come  to  own,  and  fed,  clothed,  and  edu 
cated  her,  and  gave  her  a  respectable  home  ?  " 

"  O,  I  have,  I  do  remember  it,"  said  May,  bursting  into 
tears  ;  "  I  remember  it  all,  and  would  to  Heaven  I  could 
think  of  those  days  of  kindness,  without  associating  them 
with  later  treatment  —  with  this,  this  bitter  hour  of  in 
sult  and  cruelty !  " 

"  Come,  come,  you  silly  girl,"  said  Martin,  after  waiting 
till  her  paroxysm  had  a  little  subsided  ;  and  now  changing 
his  manner  into  a  half-coaxing,  half-expostulating  tone, 
u  come,  come,  May,  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  your  feel 
ings.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  do  any  thing  but  what  1 
think  is  for  your  good.  You  yourself  will  be  as  ready 
to  marry  Mr.  Gow,  as  you  are  now  opposed  to  it,  as 


OR    THE    MOMEY    DIGGERS.  63 

soon  as  you  find  that  Ashley  has  left  you  for  another 
sweetheart." 

"  Ashley  ?  "  said  May,  slowly  taking  her  handkerchief 
from  her  tear-bathed  face,  and  looking  at  Martin  with 
an  air  of  mingled  surprise  and  censure,  "  Mr.  Ashley  will 
never  do  that." 

"Pshaw!  nothing  more  likely!"  responded  Martin, 
carelessly.  "  You  don't  know  William  Ashley  as  well  as 
I  do." 

"  Well  enough,  however,"  replied  May,  promptly,  "  to 
know  that  he  will  never  do  that,  any  sooner  than  I  should 
voluntarily  leave  him  for  your  Mr.  Gow." 

"  You  would  hardly  dare  promise  to  marry  Mr.  Gow, 
on  condition  of  Ashley's  desertion,  I  suspect  ?  " 

«  Indeed  I  should,  sir  !  " 

"  WTell,  let  us  have  your  promise,  then." 

"  I  fear  not  to  do  it,  sir,  on  that  condition,"  rejoined 
May,  in  a  tone  of  unsuspecting  confidence  ;  "  and  if  such 
a  promise  will  relieve  me  from  anymore  persecution, and 
teasing  to  marry  Gow,  till  Mr.  Ashley  is  false  to  me,  I 
will  make  it." 

"  Well,"  observed  Martin,  with  a  well-feigned  air  of 
indifference,  "  I  will  take  you  at  your  word.  I  suppose 
we  must  submit  to  the  condition,  though  I  still  say  we 
do  not  wish  to  force  your  inclinations,  only  so  far  as  we 
know  is  for  your  own  interest.  And  now  you  have  made 
this  promise,  May,  I  hope  you  will  think,  should  this  con 
dition  be  fulfilled,  that  it  is  as  wicked  to  break  it  as  you 
now  do  to  break  your  promise  to  Ashley."  So  saying, 
and  with  a  treacherous  smile  on  his  countenance,  he  left 
the  room. 

May  marvelled  much  at  the  unexpected  termination  of 


64  MAY    MARTIN, 

the  dialogue,  which  had  begun  so  differently,  and  threat 
ened  so  different  an  ending;  and  after  Martin  had  retired, 
she  endeavored  to  draw  something  from  his  wife,  which 
would  go  to  explain  her  husband's  sudden  apparent  will 
ingness  to  drop  his  purpose  for  a  promise  made  on  a 
condition  which  she  felt  so  confident  could  never  happen. 
But  that  dame,  who  was  naturally  taciturn  and  cautious, 
and  who  rarely  ever  betrayed  the  secrets  of  her  heart 
with  her  tongue,  while  her  cold,  severe,  and  unvarying 
countenance  was  generally  equally  proof  against  all 
scrutiny  on  what  was  passing  within,  pretended  to  know 
nothing  of  the  affair,  and  after  a  few  unsatisfactory  re 
plies,  sunk  into  her  usual  forbidding  silence.  Our 
heroine,  therefore,  notwithstanding  she  felt  some  little 
misgiving  relative  to  her  promise,  and  an  undefined  sus 
picion  that  there  was  something  wrong  about  it,  yet  see 
ing  no  reason  why  it  should  be  different  from  what  the 
circumstances  purported,  could  not  but  congratulate  her 
self  on  the  prospect  now  presented  of  a  reprieve  from  her 
persecutions ;  and  the  latter  feeling  prevailing,  she  dis 
missed  the  subject  from  her  mind,  and  resumed  her  do 
mestic  occupations  with  a  cheerfulness  to  which  she 
had  some  time  been  a  stranger. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  65 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  0,  what  reward,  what  gold,  what  price, 
Can  recompense  the  pangs  of  vice  ?  " 

FOR  nearly  a  week  from  the  interview  just  narrated, 
no  allusion  was  made,  in  the  presence  of  May,  to  the 
dreaded  subject  of  a  marriage  with  Gow ;  and  in  the 
respite  thus  allowed  her,  she  began  to  hope  that  her 
peace  would  no  more  be  disturbed  by  any  further  recur 
rence  of  those  scenes  which  had  lately  caused  her  so 
much  distress  and  perplexity.  And  this  hope,  added  to 
the  cheering  expectation  she  now  daily  entertained  of 
receiving  a  letter  from  Ashley,  imparted  a  new  impulse 
to  her  feelings,  and  was  fast  obliterating  the  remem 
brance  of  her  late  trials  from  her  mind.  But  this  happy 
quiet  was  not  long  to  continue  ;  and,  like  the  deceitful 
calm  of  the  elements  which  often  precedes  the  fearful 
tempest,  it  soon  proved  to  be  but  the  prelude  to  new  and 
aggravated  sorrows. 

"  May,"  said  Mrs.  Martin  one  day,  as,  glancing  through 
the  window,  she  saw  her  husband  approaching  the  house, 
in  company  with  Gow,  "  May,  did  Mr.  Martin  bring  you 
any  letter  yesterday  from  the  village?" 

"Any  letter!"  replied  May,  in  surprise;  bring  me  a 
letter !  no  ;  did  he  go  to  the  village  yesterday  ?  I  knew 
nothing  of  it." 

"  Yes,  he  went,"  said  the  other,  with  an  affected  com- 
6* 


66  MAY    MARTIN, 

monplace  air,  "and  I  thought  likely  he  might  have  found 
a  letter  for  you  there,  by  this  time  ;  but  here  he  comes 
himself,  and  can  tell  you  whether  he  inquired  for  one. 
I'll  warrant  he  did  not  though,  he  is  such  a  forgetful 
creature.  Say,  Mr.  Martin,"  she  continued,  turning  to 
her  husband,  as  he  now  entered  the  room,  "  did  you 
inquire  at  the  post-office,  yesterday,  for  a  letter  for 
May  ?  " 

"There,  now!"  exclaimed  Martin,  with  a  seeming 
abashed  and  self-condemning  manner.  "  Well,  if  that 
don't  beat  all !  I  should  not  blame  May  for  scolding 
now  ;  for,  of  all  forgetful  fellows,  I  believe  I  must  be  the 
worst.  Yes,  I  did  call  at  the  office,  and  got  her  a  letter 
from  Ashley,  I  conclude ;  and  here  I  have  carried  it  in 
my  pocket  ever  since." 

"  O,  how  could  you!  But  where  is  it — O,  where  is 
it  ?  "  eagerly  exclaimed  the  animated  girl,  starting  up  and 
advancing. 

"  Here,"  replied  Martin,  pulling  out  the  letter  and  pre 
senting  it,  "  here  it  is ;  and  now  we  shall  see  no  more  of 
you  till  that  is  read,  and  reread,  a  dozen  times  over,  I 
suppose." 

As  the  hungry  bird  darts  upon  the  luscious  grape,  ac 
cidentally  revealed  to  his  sight  while  wandering  weary 
and  famished  for  food,  so  did  May  upon  the  valued  prize 
before  her ;  and  scarce  was  it  within  her  eager  grasp 
before  she  bore  it  off,  with  eyes  sparkling  with  joy  and 
triumph,  to  another  room,  there  to  feast  on  its  anticipated 
contents,  which,  in  fancy,  were  to  thrill  her  own  bosom 
with  delight,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  furnish  an  ample 
refutation  of  the  unjust  and  ungenerous  surmises  of  Mar 
tin  concerning  the  fidelity  of  her  beloved  Ashley.  No 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  67 

sooner  was  she  alone,  than  with  trembling  haste  she  tore 
open  the  seal  and  read,  in  the  well-known  hand  of  her 
lover,  as  she  thought,  as  follows :  — 

"  Miss   MAY  MARTIN  :  — 

"  Knowing  you  would  expect  a  letter  from  me  about 
this  time,  and  considering  it  a  duty  to  apprise  you  of 
some  changes  relative  to  myself,  I  have  thought  best  to 
write  you  briefly.  On  my  arrival  at  my  old  residence,  I 
there  met  with  one  with  whom  I  once  had  considerable 
intimacy,  which  was  broken  off  by  a  misunderstanding 
between  us,  and  I  supposed  the  separation  to  be  final. 
That  misunderstanding  is  now,  however,  satisfactorily 
cleared  up,  and,  with  a  renewal  of  acquaintance,  feelings 
which,  when  with  you,  I  supposed  dead,  have  revived. 
I  presume  you  would  not  wish  to  marry  a  man  who  en 
tertains  a  preference  to  another;  I  think  I  know  you  too 
well  to  believe  you  would,  for  a  single  moment,  endure 
the  thought  of  such  a  union.  And  therefore  it  is  ex 
tremely  doubtful  whether  I  return  at  all  to  Vermont.  I 
have  luckily  found  a  man  here  who  has  taken  my  land 
contract,  in  the  settlement,  off  my  hands.  Do  not  think 
I  shall  ever  entertain  any  other  feelings  towards  you  than 
those  of  sincere  friendship  and  the  highest  respect. 

"  WILLIAM  ASHLEY." 

During  the  perusal  of  the  first  part  of  this  unloverlike 
epistle,  the  countenance  of  May  exhibited  a  surprised 
and  disappointed  expression,  produced  seemingly  by  the 
formal  and  unaccustomed  introductory  address,  as  well 
as  not  meeting  with  any  thing  she  expected  to  find.  But 
this  expression,  as  she  continued,  soon  changed  into  a  look 


68  MAY    MARTIN, 

of  blank  bewilderment,  like  that  of  one  utterly  at  a  loss 
to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  writer;  and  it  was 
not  till  she  had  reached  the  concluding  line,  that  the 
painful  truth,  which  the  writer,  with  apparent  reluctance, 
seemed  impelled  by  a  sense  of  duty  to  communicate, 
flashed  for  the  first  time  across  her  mind.  Then  it  was 
that  the  ashy  paleness  of  dismay  spread  over  the  quiver 
ing  muscles  of  her  face ;  and,  with  a  hurried,  mechanical 
kind  of  motion,  she  again  commenced  reading,  trembling 
more  and  more  violently  as  she  proceeded,  till,  her  agita 
tion  becoming  too  great  to  continue  the  perusal,  she 
dropped  the  fatal  paper  on  the  table,  and,  lifting  up  her 
hands,  with  a  look  of  utter  hopelessness  and  misery,  in 
distinctly  murmured,  "  O,  may  not  this  be  some  dreadful 
dream,  from  which  I  shall  awake  ?  "  —  and  she  pressed 
her  hand  hard  upon  the  swelling  veins  of  her  forehead, 
as  if  to  recover  her  consciousness.  "  No,  no,"  she  at 
length  more  audibly  uttered,  in  a  tone  of  despairing 
grief — "no,  no.  Wretched,  O,  wretched,  lost,  wrecked, 
and  ruined !  and  all  but  Heaven  has  now  deserted  me." 
Tears  now  gushed  and  fell  in  a  shower  from  her  eyes, 
and,  covering  her  face  with  both  hands,  heart-rending 
sobs  alone  gave  further  utterance  to  the  agony  of  feel 
ing  with  which  her  bursting  bosom  was  laboring. 

At  this  moment  Martin,  followed  by  Gow,  entered  the 
room. 

"Why!  what  is  all  this  now?"  exclaimed  the  former, 
in  affected  surprise.  "What  is  the  matter?  what  can 
have  happened,  May?  O,  something  in  the  letter  —  but 
do  let  us  see  what  dreadful  news  it  contains!"  So  say 
ing,  he  officiously  bustled  up  to  the  table  where  May  was 
sitting,  in  the  posture  above  described,  with  the  letter  open 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  69 

before  her,  without  moving,  or  offering  any  resistance  to 
Martin's  taking  it,  and  seemed  busily  to  run  over  the 
contents.  "  There  !  "  he  presently  exclaimed,  turning  to 
his  friend  —  "  there  !  this  is  just  what  I  always  expected 
—  that  fellow,  Ashley,  has  cast  May  aside  for  an  old 
sweetheart,  and  has  had  the  impudence  here  to  tell  her 
so  —  though  it  is  scarcely  three  weeks  since  he  was  vow 
ing  and  cooing  round  her,  like  all  the  world.  The  false 
hearted  scoundrel !  But  May  had  fair  warning  how  the 
fellow  would  treat  her ;  and  now  I  hope  she  will  put  a 
proper  value  on  the  offers  of  those  who  really  love  her, 
and  are  worth  a  thousand  such  fellows  to  boot." 

"  Yes,  May,"  said  Gow,  in  a  low,  soothing  tone,  as  he 
approached  and  leaned  over  the  table  by  her  side;  while 
Martin,  under  pretence  of  further  examining  the  letter, 
moved  off  to  an  opposite  window — "yes,  May,  now  this 
great  obstacle  to  your  marrying  another  is  entirely  re 
moved,  I  hope  you  will  no  longer  refuse  to  hear  my  offer," 

"  O,  do  not  torment  me,"  she  replied  in  broken  utter 
ance,  her  face  still  buried  in  her  hands ;  "  O,  leave  me 
alone,  I  do  beseech  you." 

"  May ! "  interrupted  Martin  sternly,  "  remember  your 
promise  —  you  recollect  —  if  Ashley  deserted  you !  Have 
you  forgotten  it  so  soon  ?  " 

The  wretched  girl  groaned  aloud. 

"  You  are  silent,"  continued  her  interrogator,  "  and 
well  you  may  be;  for  you  will  hardly  deny  the  solemn 
promise  you  made  me,  not  a  week  since  ;  and  I  now 
call  on  you  to  fulfil  it.  Do  you  consent  ?  " 

"  O,  have  mercy  —  some  mercy,"  she  cried,  rising  and 
moving  towards  the  door  — "  some  mercy  on  a  poor, 
broken-hearted  girl ! " 


70  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Do  you  consent  ?  I  again  say,"  sternly  demanded 
Martin,  rising  and  endeavoring  to  intercept  her  retreat. 

"  Do  what  you  will  with  me  —  sell  me  for  a  slave  — 
kill  me,  if  you  please,  but  let  me  go  now :  O,  do  let  me 
go ! "  was  the  beseeching  reply,  as,  with  streaming  eyes 
and  convulsive  sobs,  she  escaped  from  her  inquisitors, 
and  fled  to  her  own  apartment. 

"  Let  her  go,  Martin,"  said  Gow,  hastily,  as  the  other 
was  about  to  follow  or  command  her  back,  "  let  her  go; 
let  the  matter  rest  just  where  it  is.  Silence  gives  con 
sent  of  itself — besides,  have  you  not  her  express  leave 
to  do  with  her  just  as  you  please  ?  What  more  do 
you  want?" 

"  Why,  true,  Gow,"  replied  the  other,  hesitating  under 
the  twinges  of  some  remains  of  conscience,  which  still 
lingered  in  spite  of  all  the  trainings  it  had  lately  received 
—  "true,  she  all  but  consented  —  and  did  consent,  in  a 
sort  —  but  —  but  you  see  she  is  no  more  willing  now 
than  before  —  and  —  how  would  you  manage  it?" 

"  Manage  it !  why,  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  go 
ahead  :  you  saddle  your  horse,  and  go  directly  to  the 
parson  ;  tell  him  to  publish  the  banns  next  Sunday,  and 
be  on  hand  to  tie  the  knot,  on  some  day  you  and  your 
wife  shall  fix  on,  as  soon  as  your  laws  will  allow ;  for  I 
mean  to  go  by  Gunter  in  this  business." 

"  Yes,  but  —  " 

"  But  what  ?  You  are  thinking  about  raising  the 
hundred  dollars,  I  conclude,  or  you  would  not  hesitate  to 
go  on,  now  your  chance  is  so  much  better  than  ever  to 
save  it.  I  tell  you,  man,  one  thing  or  the  other  must  be 
done  soon." 

The  last  hint  was  sufficient  for  a  man  of  the  dispo- 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  71 

sition  of  Martin,  and  he  at  once  forgot  his  qualms  of 
conscience,  and  tamely  promised  obedience  to  the  com 
mands  of  the  other. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Gow,  "  go  on  as  I  told  you :  the 
game  is  now  within  certain  reach,  if  all  is  kept  still. 
We  will  let  the  girl  alone  pretty  much  till  the  day  ar 
rives,  and  in  the  mean  while,  we  will  drive  hard  at  our 
business  at  the  mountain  ;  for  I  should  like  amazingly  to 
have  a  few  of  those  jinglers  in  my  pocket  for  wedding 
music." 

"  Amen  to  that,"  said  Martin,  as  he  left  his  friend  for 
the  business  more  immediately  before  him. 

"  Dirty  miscreant !  "  soliloquized  Gow,  after  his  friend 
had  left  the  room  —  "  what  a  precious  scoundrel,  but  for 
your  pusillanimous  fears,  which  only  make  you  hesitate 
here,  or  any  where !  But  with  all  your  duplicity  and 
good  will  to  play  false  with  me,  I  can  keep  the  knave 
in  you  straight,  by  means  of  the  miser  and  the  coward. 
Rogue  as  I  am,  I  despise  you  for  your  meanness  to  this 
noble  girl,  whom  you  should  protect ;  and  had  I  not  a 
greater  object  in  view  than  you  can  have  in  this  affair, 
I  would  hang  myself,  before  I,  who  have  no  such  du 
ties  towards  her,  would  be  guilty  of  even  the  part  I  am 
taking,  though  a  thousand  times  more  decent  than 
yours.  It  will  do  me  good  to  see  you  punished,  as  you 
will  be,  with  a  vengeance,  for  this  shuffling  to  me,  and 
baseness  to  her.  Ha !  you  little  think,  that  while  you 
are  helping  me  to  a  fortune  with  one  hand,  you  are 
twisting  a  rope  for  your  own  neck  with  the  other." 


72  MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER    VII. 

"  Guid  Lord,  how  they  were  quakin  ! 
But  whether  'twas  the  deil  himsel, 
Or  whether  'twas  a  banken, 
Or  whether  it  was  Andrew  Bell, 
They  did  na  wait  on  talkin 
To  spier  that  night." 

WE  will  now  follow  the  eager-eyed  expectants  of  the 
glittering  treasure  to  the  theatre  of  their  secret  opera 
tions  in  the  woods.  A  company  of  five  individuals, 
besides  Martin  and  Gow,  had  already  been  formed,  ac 
cording  to  the  plan  before  mentioned,  and  many  nights 
had  been  spent  by  them  in  making  excavations  on  the 
spot  indicated  by  their  leader,  who  generally  remained 
with  them  several  hours  each  night  in  directing  their 
movements,  before  he  retired  to  his  retreat  on  the 
mountain,  where  he  had  now  for  the  most  part  taken 
up  his  quarters.  For  the  first  few  nights  of  their  dig 
ging,  he  had  directed  their  efforts  to  different  places 
within  a  circle  of  some  ten  rods  in  diameter,  designated 
by  certain  marks  on  the  trees,  and  constituting  a  boun 
dary,  within  which,  he  told  them,  he  had  rendered  it 
certain,  by  views  obtained  in  his  magic  stone,  and  the 
working  of  the  divining  rods,  that  the  money  lay  buried. 
But  for  several  of  the  last  nights  he  had  ordered  them 
to  proceed  on  in  excavating  in  the  same  vein,  assuring 
them  that  they  might  depend  on  having  centred  on 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  73 

the  right  place,  and  to  so  great  a  certainty  was  this  now 
reduced,  as  his  stone  and  often-tried  rods  informed  him. 
that  he  could  safely  promise  them  that  a  few  more  nights' 
labor  would  bring  them  to  the  treasure.  And  such  being 
the  case,  he  called  on  each  man  to  have  the  bonus,  to  be 
paid  him  on  reaching  the  first  dollar,  in  readiness ;  and 
at  the  same  time  he  declined  assisting  them  any  further, 
till  they  severally  complied  with  this  indispensable  requi 
sition.  This,  for  several  days,  caused  a  suspension  of 
their  labors;  for  it  required  no  small  exertions  on  the 
part  of  the  company  generally,  and  many  sacrifices 
on  the  part  of  some  of  them,  to  raise,  at  that  day,  the 
necessary  sum.  But  their  exertions  and  sacrifices,  great 
as  they  were  in  some  cases,  were  cheerfully  and  even  anx 
iously  made,  in  the  fancied  certainty  of  soon  being  a 
thousand  fold  repaid,  in  the  glittering  harvest  which  they 
were  about  to  reap.  Farms  were  unhesitatingly  mort 
gaged  to  distant  money  lenders ;  oxen  and  horses,  the 
only  ones  possessed  by  their  owners,  were  sold  at  reduced 
prices  ;  and  all  kinds  of  property  were  disposed  of  or 
pledged,  for  a  tithe  of  the  value,  to  meet  the  exigency. 
And  so  great  was  their  activity,  that  before  one  week 
had  elapsed,  every  man  of  the  company  had  reported 
himself  to  his  leader,  as  prepared  with  his  hundred  dol 
lars  in  his  pocket,  and  eagerly  demanded  to  be  led  again 
to  his  work. 

Hitherto  the  enterprise  had  been  conducted  with  so 
much  caution  and  secrecy,  that  little  was  known  in  the 
neighborhood,  except  by  those  immediately  concerned, 
of  its  existence,  and  much  less  of  the  object  for  which 
the  company  was  formed.  But  either  by  reason  of  the 
stir  created  by  raising  the  money,  or  because  the  growing 
7 


74  MAY    MARTIN, 

certainty  of  success  had  rendered  the  different  members 
of  the  association  less  guarded,  vague  rumors  were 
beginning  to  be  afloat  in  the  neighborhood,  that  some 
uncommon  adventure  was  going  on  in  the  mountains ; 
and  many  were  the  conjectures  and  dark  surmises  made 
concerning  its  character  and  object  —  the  secrecy  with 
which  it  had  been  conducted  sufficing  to  throw  an  air 
of  mystery  and  romance  over  the  proceeding.  And  this 
had  been  considerably  increased  by  the  appearance, 
about  this  time,  of  a  singularly  accoutred  old  man,  who 
had  been  known  to  enter  the  settlement  from  the  north, 
and  was  several  times  afterwards  seen  hovering  around 
the  outskirts  of  the  woods,  back  of  which  was  the  sup 
posed  scene  of  these  mysterious  operations  —  some  be 
lieving  him  the  devil  himself  come  to  superintend  the 
ceremonies  of  the  black  art  which  they  suspected  was 
in  performance  in  the  woods,  and  others,  more  given  to 
matter  of  fact  calculations,  and  disposed  to  view  secrecy 
and  mystery  as  generally  the  cloak  of  iniquity,  shrewdly 
suspecting  him  to  be  an  agent  sent  from  Stephen 
Btfrroughs's  Snag1  Factory*  in  Canada,  to  establish  a 
branch  in  this  unexposed  part  of  the  Green  Mountains. 
And  it  was  the  impression  of  all,  indeed,  that  this 
strange  personage  had  some  connection  with  the  doings 
of  the  company.  Those,  however,  who  were  supposed 
to  be  its  members,  stoutly  denied  the  truth  of  this  sup 
position,  being,  probably,  with  the  exception  of  their 
leader,  really  as  much  in  the  dark  concerning  the  cause 
of  the  appearance  and  the  character  of  the  old  man  as 
their  neighbors. 

*  The  counterfeit  bills  by  which  the  celebrated  Stephen  Burroughs 
once  flooded  the  country,  were  at  that  day  usually  denominated  snags 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


75 


It  was  on  a  dark  night,  in  July,  a  few  days  subsequent 
to  the  scene  in  which  we  left  our  heroine  at  Martin's, 
that  the  money  diggers  resumed  their  labors.  Excited 
by  the  late  assurances  of  Gow,  they  came,  one  by  one, 
stealing  to  the  spot,  at  an  early  hour,  and  as  usual,  having 
kindled  a  small  fire,  and  stuck  a  pine-knot  torch  in  a 
stump,  on  the  bank  of  the  excavation,  to  furnish  light  for 
their  operations,  they  waited,  with  nervous  impatience, 
the  arrival  of  their  leader,  to  direct  the  spot  on  which 
their  efforts  were  now  to  be  bestowed.  The  latter  soon 
made  his  appearance;  and,  after  giving  his  directions, 
with  the  mysterious  gravity  with  which  he  had  sustained 
his  part  through  the  whole  enterprise,  and  seeing  them 
fairly  at  work,  he  soon  informed  them  that  from  the  ex 
periments  he  had  been  making  through  the  day,  he  had 
strong  hopes  of  reaching  the  treasure  in  the  course  of  a 
few  hours,  and  that  he  should  remain  with  them  till  the 
close  of  their  labors  for  the  night.  This  thrilling  an 
nouncement  added  fresh  ardor  to  their  exertions,  and 
wrought  up  their  minds  to  the  highest  pitch  of  expecta 
tion  and  excitement.  And,  in  imagination,  new  farms 
were  already  purchased ;  old  ones  richly  stocked  and 
improved;  new  houses  built  and  finished;  wives  were 
rustling  in  their  new  silk  gowns ;  tables  were  groaning 
with  dainties,  and  hundreds  were  lavished  with  a  free 
hand,  in  treats,  by  embryo  captains  of  militia,  or  justices 
of  the  peace,  on  the  occasion  of  their  promotion  —  hon 
ors  which  their  great  wealth  would  certainly  bring  to 
them.  Thus  with  lusty  blows,  and  many  a  gleeful  joke, 
they  delved  on  till  about  midnight. 

Gow  now  made  another  trial  with  his  rods  ;  and,  after 
essaying  them  some  time,  from  different  points,  with 


7G  MAY    MARTIN, 

great  seeming  carefulness  and  accuracy,  he  rose,  with  a 
satisfied  air,  and  hastily  throwing  them  aside,  as  things 
whose  aid  was  now  no  longer  required,  he  joyfully  an 
nounced  to  his  associates,  that  the  hour  which  was  to 
crown  their  labors  with  success  was  at  last  arrived,  but 
that  it  was  the  hour,  likewise,  that  wrould,  very  probably, 
put  all  their  prudence  and  fortitude  to  the  severest  trial ; 
for  he  must  now  apprise  them,  that  in  those  cases  where 
any  murder  or  other  great  wickedness  had  been  commit 
ted  in  connection  with  secreting  a  treasure,  there  was 
generally  considerable  difficulty  in  securing  it,  even  after 
it  was  fairly  discovered,  owing  to  the  strange  sights  and 
noises  which  were  seen  and  heard  about  the  time  of 
reaching  and  attempting  to  seize  it.  But  these  sounds 
or  apparitions,  as  startling  and  terrible  as  they  might 
seem,  would  hurt  nobody,  nor  prevent  securing  the  money, 
if  no  attention  was  paid  to  them ;  while  if  the  attention, 
at  that  critical  moment,  was  suffered  to  be  diverted,  and 
the  eye  withdrawn  from  the  spot,  the  money,  some  how 
or  other,  was  almost  sure  to  get  away,  or  be  so  lost  sight 
of  that  it  could  not  be  found  again,  without  a  new  course 
of  digging  and  experiments.  This,  to  be  sure,  might  not 
be  a  case  where  any  such  difficulty  would  occur,  but  it 
is  always  best  to  be  prepared  for  the  worst ;  and,  there 
fore,  the  instant  it  was  announced  that  the  money  was 
reached,  every  man  must  have  all  his  senses  about  him, 
and  confine  them  to  the  spot ;  and  on  no  account  look 
off  or  suffer  a  glance,  or  thought,  to  stray  to  what  might 
be  doing  around  him,  but  grapple  at  the  treasure,  as  soon 
as  it  was  laid  open,  in  whatever  shape  it  be  found,  and 
hang  on  for  life,  though  the  very  devil  might  be  yelling 
about  his  ears.  With  this  startling  caution,  he  ordered 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  77 

the  men  to  dig  away  the  inequalities  of  the  bottom,  and 
level  off  a  broad  space  where  they  had  last  been  digging. 
With  nerves  agitated  by  fear  and  expectation,  they  hur 
riedly  went  to  work,  and  soon  smoothed  down  a  space 
sufficiently  broad  to  meet  the  mind  of  their  leader.  He 
then  formed  them  in  a  circle  around  him,  and  taking  a 
heavy  crowbar,  and  ordering  every  eye  to  be  fixed  in 
tensely  on  the  spot  where  he  should  strike,  and  if  any 
signs  of  hitting  the  money  followed,  to  dig  for  their  lives, 
he  lifted  high  the  heavy  weapon,  and  thrust  it  deep  into 
the  ground.  A  sharp,  grating  sound,  as  of  the  deadened 
clinking  of  metals  under  ground,  followed  the  blow. 
And  a  low,  eager,  suppressed  shout  of  exultation  simul 
taneously  escaped  from  the  lips  of  all  the  company; 
while,  almost  at  the  same  instant,  a  deep,  unearthly 
groan  issued  from  the  nearest  thicket,  striking  the  ear 
with  horrible  distinctness,  and  causing  every  heart  to 
quake  with  apprehension.  Gow  quickly  repeated  his 
blow,  and  it  was  again  followed  by  the  same  cheering 
sound  from  the  earth,  and  the  same,  and  still  more  star 
tling  groan  from  the  thicket. 

"Now  dig!  —  dig  for  your  very  lives!"  sternly  ex 
claimed  Gow.  Rallying  their  sinking  courage  at  the 
command,  they  fell  furiously  to  work,  throwing  the  earth 
in  every  direction  by  their  vague  and  random  blows,  and 
seemingly  trying  to  stifle  their  fears  by  the  desperate  en 
ergy  of  their  efforts,  as  nearer  and  more  terrific  grew  the 
fearful  sounds  around  them.  Still  managing,  however, 
to  keep  their  eyes  on  the  work,  though  scarcely  able  to 
control  the  movements  of  their  shaking  and  quaking 
limbs,  they  soon  laid  bare  what  they  took  to  be  the  iron 
chest  containing  their  prize. 
7* 


78  MAY    MARTIN, 

"The  lid!  the  lid!  seize  and  raise  the  lid!"  cried 
Gow ;  "  and  let  every  eye  be  upon  the  spot !  "  So  say 
ing,  he  seized  a  bar,  and  thrusting  it  under  the  supposed 
lid,  raised  one  side  of  it  several  inches  from  its  bed,  when 
the  sight  of  rusty  dollars  beneath,  dimly  glittering  in 
the  feeble  light  of  their  torch,  greeted  their  enraptured 
sight.  "There!  there  it  is!"  shouted  the  men.  "Up 
with  the  lid  then,  and  seize  it !  "  cried  Gow.  One  of  them 
accordingly  grappled  with  the  lid,  and  had  raised  it  near 
ly  upright ;  when,  in  the  act  of  stooping,  involuntarily 
casting  a  look  through  his  arms  back  on  the  bank  behind 
them,  he  gave  a  shriek  of  terror,  which  turned  all  eyes 
to  the  spot  indicated  by  his  wild  gestures.  On  the  bank 
above  them,  at  a  few  yards  distant,  stood  an  apparition, 
which  made  the  blood  curdle  in  their  veins  —  the  figure 
of  an  old  man,  his  head  and  arms  bare,  and  his  long  hair 
of  milky  whiteness  streaming  down  over  his  shoulders, 
one  of  his  skeleton  arms  thrown  aloft,  and  the  other 
pointing  to  his  bloody  throat,  which  seemed  to  be  cut 
from  ear  to  ear ;  while  from  his  sunken  sockets  his  eyes 
shone  like  twTo  burning  coals,  and  from  his  mouth  a  blue 
flame  appeared  to  issue,  showing  long  rows  of  spike- 
fashioned  teeth,  glowing  like  red-hot  iron.  "  Seize  the 
money !  "  vociferated  Gow,  at  the  same  time  plunging 
his  hands  under  the  lid.  Partially  roused  by  the  words 
of  their  leader,  the  appalled  and  horror-struck  men  were 
making  a  confused  motion  to  follow  his  example  ;  when 
the  apparition,  seizing  their  torch  and  whirling  it  wide 
into  the  bushes,  leaped  with  a  hideous  screech  directly 
upon  them.  Tumbling  one  over  another,  in  the  darkness 
and  confusion,  all  but  Gow  sprang  wildly  up  the  bank 
and  fled  from  the  spot  like  frighted  sheep  from  beneath 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


79 


the  crash  of  a  falling  thunderbolt,  —  some  running 
against  trees,  which  threw  them  back  stunned  and  near 
ly  senseless  on  the  ground  by  the  shock —  some  tumbling 
over  logs,  and  there  lying  in  breathless  stillness  —  and 
some  fleeing  and  hiding  themselves  in  distant  thickets, 
till  his  infernal  majesty,  as  they  verily  believed  him, 
should  be  pleased  to  take  his  departure.  All  was  now 
dark  and  silent  as  the  tomb.  Gow,  however,  who  had 
fearlessly  remained  on  the  spot,  either  because  he  had 
more  nerve  than  his  associates,  or  because  he  was  better 
acquainted  with  his  majesty,  soon  found  his  way  to  the 
decayed  fire,  kept  for  lighting  their  torches,  and  lighting 
up  a  fresh  knot,  proceeded  to  the  spot,  from  which  the 
company  had  been  so  strangely  driven,  and  put  things 
in  such  a  situation  as  best  comported  with  his  pur 
poses.  After  which,  he  began  to  call  loudly  to  his  men 
to  return,  as  the  ghost,  or  whatever  it  was,  that  had 
spoiled  their  game,  was  gone,  and  there  was  no  further 
danger,  he  assured  them,  of  his  appearing  that  night. 
One  by  one,  the  men  came  creeping  cautiously  and 
stealthily  from  their  hiding-places;  and  all,  at  length, 
were  again  assembled  on  the  bank  of  the  excavation. 
After  being  a  little  reassured  by  the  words  of  their  lead 
er,  and  the  presence  of  one  another,  they  all  proceeded 
to  the  spot,  where  they  had  last  seen  the  supposed  chest ; 
but  no  appearance  of  either  chest  or  money  remained, 
and  a  little  loose  earth  gave  the  only  indication  of  the 
spot  where  they  had  discovered  it.  "  The  game  is  all  up 
for  to-night,  as  I  supposed,"  observed  Gow,  after  thrust 
ing  down  a  stick  a  few  times.  "  The  game  is  up  for  this 
time  ;  and  now  you  see  what  you  have  lost  by  not  at 
tending  to  my  cautions,  and  keeping  better  command 


80  MAY    MARTIN, 

of  yourselves,  when  it  was  all  nothing  but  an  empty 
apparition — the  mere  shadow  of  some  old  codger,  that 
has  been  dead  and  rotten  these  hundred  years,  and 
that  could  have  neither  hurt  you  nor  been  felt  by  any 
body." 

"  Don't  know  zackly  about  that,  captain,"  interrupted 
one  —  "  he  grabbed  my  leg,  as  I  was  springing  up  the 
bank  there,  I'll  swear  to  ye;  and  if  I  hadn't  kicked  him 
off,  he'd  a  carried  me  under  where  the  chist  is,  fur  zino." 

"  Yes,  and  he  chased  me  like  thunder,  way  out  there 
in  the  woods,"  said  another,  his  teeth  still  chattering 
from  fright,1  "  and  gave  me  a  lick  over  the  head,  that 
knocked  me  down,  stiff  as  a  tomcod  ;  and  here's  the 
marks  on't  now,"  he  continued,  rubbing  and  showing  his 
forehead,  which  had  been  barked  by  running  against  a 
tree. 

"  He  came  from  a  brimstone  country,  any  how ;  for  I 
smelt  it  as  plain  as  day  —  and  seems  to  me  I  can  smell 
it  now,"  observed  a  third,  snuffing  and  turning  his  nose 
round  in  different  directions. 

"  How  like  a  painter  he  bellowed  and  screeched  it,  jest 
as  he  jumped !  "  exclaimed  a  fourth  ;  "  I  vow,  it  made 
my  hair  stand  up  so  stiff  it  shoved  my  hat  off!  " 

"  And  what  eyes  !"  added  a  fifth  ;  "  my  stars,  how  they 
glared  !  If  that  are  thing  wasn't  the  devil,  no  matter  !  " 

"Pshaw!  pshaw!"  said  Gow,  "all  nonsense,  I  assure 
you.  This  is  all  nothing  to  what  I  have  met  with  at  such 
times  ;  and  you  yourselves  will  be  convinced  of  it  by  the 
time  we  have  had  another  such  bout  —  but  now  let  us 
see  how  much  we  did  get." 

They  then,  taking  a  smooth  place  without  the  excava 
tion,  proceeded  to  produce  and  count  the  few  dollars  they 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  81 

had  seized  when  driven  from  their  hold  on  the  treasure. 
Gow  and  Martin,  it  appeared,  were  the  only  ones  who 
were  successful  in  fairly  getting  hold  of  any  ;  each  of 
whom  had  grasped  and  retained  a  single  handful  of  bona 
fide  dollars,  amounting  to  thirty  in  number.  Of  this  there 
could  be  no  mistake,  for  they  were  spread  before  them, 
and,  though  a  little  rusty,  as  might  be  expected,  were  yet, 
to  all  appearance,  genuine  Spanish  coin ;  furnishing  in 
dubitable  evidence  to  those  who  might  have  hitherto 
entertained  doubts  of  the  existence  of  the  treasure  that 
money  was  here,  and,  with  proper  management,  might 
be  secured.  And  this  cheering  thought,  with  the  assur 
ances  of  their  leader  that  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in 
again  finding  the  chest,  with  one  or  two  nights'  digging, 
and  that  these  disturbances  to  frighten  them  away  were 
comparatively  light  after  the  first  ordeal,  raised  their 
spirits  almost  to  their  former  level;  and,  as  they  sat  in 
a  ring  round  the  fire,  with  an  occasional  glance  of  wild- 
ness,  and  sometimes  a  convulsive  start,  the  lingering  ef 
fects  of  their  recent  fright,  eagerly  handling  and  eyeing 
the  dollars,  like  scared  children  who  had  been  appeased 
\vith  toys,  they  began  once  more  to  crack  their  jokes 
over  their  strange  adventure,  and  again  grow  rich,  in  the 
prospects  of  another  trial  for  the  slippery  treasure. 

Taking  advantage  of  this  state  of  feeling,  and  the 
renewed  expectations  which  he  had  succeeded  in  rais 
ing  in  their  minds,  Gow  now  told  them,  as  the  treasure 
had  been  discovered,  and  the  first  dollar  found,  the  con 
tingency  had  therefore  happened  which  entitled  him  to  a 
hundred  dollars  from  each  ;  and  gave  them  to  understand 
that  he  expected  their  immediate  compliance  with  their 
bargain.  To  this,  after  some  demurring,  and  a  few  man- 


82  MAY    MARTIN, 

ifestations  of  reluctance,  they  finally  assented ;  and  pro 
ducing  their  money,  they,  with  the  exception  of  Martin, 
paid  him  on  the  spot.  And  this  business  being  adjusted, 
and  an  arrangement  made  to  commence  operations  again 
as  soon  as  the  situation  of  the  treasure  could  be  ascer 
tained  by  experiments,  the  band  separated  for  the  night 
—  the  men  to  dream  of  devils  and  pots  of  money,  and 
their  artful  leader  to  hug  the  reality  of  five  hundred 
dollars. 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


33 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  But  from  the  cloud,  hope  like  a  meteor  gleamed." 

LET  us  now  return  to  the  disconsolate  girl,  whom  we 
left  sinking  under  the  accumulated  load  of  distress  occa 
sioned  by  the  supposed  desertion  of  one  lover,  in  whom 
she  had  centred  her  every  hope  of  happiness,  and  whose 
image  she  had  inwrapped  in  her  very  heart's  core,  and 
the  fresh  and  deeply-abetted  persecutions  of  another,  the 
object  of  her  rooted  dislike  and  suspicion,  whose  presence, 
even,  was  painful  and  perplexing  to  her  feelings.  After 
the  interview,  at  which  May  received  the  letter  so  as 
tounding  to  her  hopes  and  long-cherished  affections, 
Martin  carried  into  immediate  effect  the  preliminaries 
of  marriage  recommended  and  urged  by  his  bold  and 
determined  associate.  And  the  banns  were  accordingly 
published,  the  next  Sunday,  at  the  village,  and  the  at 
tendance  of  the  minister  bespoken  to  celebrate  the  nup 
tials  one  week  from  the  Tuesday  evening  next  succeed 
ing  the  publishment. 

May,  in  the  mean  time,  the  person  above  all  others  the 
most  interested  in  this  movement,  had  never  been  in  the 
least  consulted,  but  kept  in  entire  ignorance  of  its  exist 
ence  ;  and  never  dreaming  that  any  immediate  advantage 
would  be  taken  of  a  promise,  made  on  condition  of  a 
desertion  which,  in  her  unbounded  confidence,  she  be 
lieved  could  never  happen,  and  which,  as  she  now  sus- 


84  MAY    MARTIN, 

pected,  was  artfully  exacted  by  Martin  with  a  knowledge 
previously  received,  from  some  source  or  other,  of  Ash 
ley's  defection ;  or  that  any  thing  would  be  tortured 
into  a  consent,  which  she  subsequently  uttered  in  her 
grief  and  agitation  at  the  intelligence,  by  which  that 
confidence,  as  well  as  all  her  happiness,  was  swept 
away  at  a  blow ;  and  wholly  unsuspecting,  indeed,  of 
the  measures  which  had  been  taken,  and  which  had 
made  such  fearful  progress  towards  disposing  of  her  to 
one  she  so  thoroughly  detested,  —  she  continued,  several 
days,  drooping  in  listless  apathy  to  all  that  was  passing 
around  her,  brooding  over  her  griefs  with  feelings  of  an 
guish  to  be  imagined  only  by  those  whose  sensibilities 
have  received  a  similar  shock,  or,  looking  forward  to  the 
chill  and  dreary  future,  there  to  find  no  ray  of  consola 
tion  to  compensate  for  the  settled  and  heart-blighting 
woe  of  the  present.  And  it  was  not  till. two  or  three 
days  after  the  event,  that  she  accidentally  overheard,  in 
a  conversation  between  her  mother  and  a  neighbor,  who 
had  called  at  the  door,  that  the  intention  of  marriage 
between  herself  and  Gow  had  been  publicly  proclaimed 
the  preceding  Sunday,  and  that  not  a  week  intervened 
before  the  fatal  day  fixed  on  for  its  consummation. 
The  poor  girl,  as  well  she  might  be,  was  petrified  with 
astonishment,  and  filled  with  mingled  emotions  of  dread 
and  indignation  at  the  discovery.  As  great,  however, 
as  was  her  dismay  at  the  dreaded  fate  which  she  saw 
preparing  for  her,  —  as  deep  as  was  her  indignation  at 
the  effrontery  of  Gow,  and  the  baseness  of  those  who  had 
sanctioned  his  conduct,  —  she  made  no  outcry,  uttered 
no  word  of  alarm  or  reproach,  questioned  no  one,  called 
no  one  to  her  counsel,  nor  even  hinted  that  she  was 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


85 


apprised  of  what  was  in  progress ;  for  where  should  she 
go  for  succor  or  advice  ?  The  friend  and  more  than 
friend,  on  whom  she  had  all  along  relied  to  return  soon 
enough  to  relieve  her  from  her  troubles  before  arfy  meas 
ure  of  actual  compulsion  should  be  used,  had  now  cru 
elly  deserted,  and  left  her  unsupported  in  heart,  and 
friendless  and  unprotected  in  her  extremities.  The 
neighbors,  if  the  delicacy  of  her  feelings  would  permit 
her  to  apply  to  them,  were  indifferent,  or  against  her,  or 
at  best  would  have  no  power  to  relieve  her — and  her 
parents,  who  should  be  her  friendly  advisers  and  pro 
tectors,  she  well  knew  were,  instead,  the  abetters  if  not 
the  prime  movers  of  all  that  had  been  done.  She  saw, 
at  a  glance,  how  she  had  been  entrapped  —  how  the  ad 
vantage  she  had  unwittingly  given  them  had  been  seized 
on  as  a  pretended  excuse  for  the  steps  they  had  taken  ; 
and  she  could  easily  foresee  that  this  would  furnish 
them  with  the  same  plea,  as  false,  hypocritical,  and 
base,  as  their  consciences  must  tell  them  it  was,  for 
forcing  her  on,  till  she  was  irretrievably  bound  in  by 
their  toils.  And  although  she  knew  not  half  the  extent 
of  their  baseness  and  treachery,  she  yet  knew  enough  to 
fill  her  with  dread  for  the  result  of  their  machinations, 
and  cause  her  nearly  to  despair  of  being  able  to  extri 
cate  herself  from  the  snares  by  which  they  had  beset 
her.  And  yet  she,  at  times,  looked  on  the  fate  that  now 
seemed  rapidly  approaching,  dreaded  as  it  had  been, 
and  still  was,  to  her  sober  reflection,  with  an  indiffer 
ence  and  apathy  of  feeling,  which  one  week  before 
would  have  astonished  even  herself.  There  was  a 
strange,  wayward  feeling,  that  occasionally  came,  min 
gling  in  the  perturbed  tumult  of  her  mind,  and  seemed 
8 


86  MAY    MARTIN, 

half  to  court  the  very  fate  she  would  avoid.  Why 
should  she  care  now,  it  said,  what  became  of  her  ?  — life 
was  now  forever  a  blank  to  her,  and  no  happiness  was 
to  be  saved  by  avoiding  her  doom.  And  offended  pride 
then  resentfully  threw  in  her  plea,  "  He  might  have 
saved  all  this  —  he  has  cruelly  deserted  me  in  the  hour 
of  need,  and  that  desertion,  besides  withering  my  heart 
to  its  core,  has  thrown  me  into  the  snares  of  a  villain. 
How  the  thought,  when  he  hears  of  my  fate,  will  sharpen 
the  stings  of  conscience,  that  must  goad  him  for  his  con 
duct!  But  what  will  he  care,"  she  said,  her  better  feel 
ings  again  predominating  —  "what  will  he  care  now  for 
the  wretched,  wretched  girl?"  And  her  tears  streamed 
afresh  at  the  sickening  answer  her  mind  despairingly 
responded.  "  Destroy  thyself,"  whispered  the  tempter. 
Starting  at  the  obtruding  thought,  she  fell  upon  her 
knees,  and  poured  out  her  heart  to  her  God,  besought 
him  to  banish  these  dreadful  feelings  from  her  bosom, 
and  implored  his  divine  assistance  in  snatching  her 
from  the  threatening  peril,  and  restoring  her  to  tranquil 
lity.  She  arose,  meek  and  calmed,  from  the  devotion, 
and  took  her  Bible,  there  to  find  some  balm  for  her  bruised 
spirit.  She  opened  upon  a  paper  on  which  she  recol 
lected  some  time  before  to  have  penned  a  sentiment, 
and  left  it  unfinished  while  hesitating  in  the  choice  of 
a  word.  Her  attention  immediately  became  riveted  to 
the  writing.  The  words  were  repeated  below  on  the 
same  paper,  and  in  her  own  hand,  apparently, .with  the 
lacking  word  supplied.  "  When  could  I  have  done  this  ?" 
she  asked  herself,  in  surprise.  "  And  that  word,  too, 
which  I  could  not  recall ;  that  is  here  —  it  cannot  be,  and 
yet  it  is  my  own  hand."  She  cast  her  eye  still  farther 


OK    THE    jVIOiNEY    DIGGERS.  87 

down,  where  she  had  written  her  name,  May  Martin. 
This  also  she  remembered  to  have  done  once  ;  but  here  it 
was  repeated  a  dozen  times,  and  last  of  all  was  written 
May  Gow.  "  I  never  coupled  those  two  names  together  ! " 
she  exclaimed,  starting  up,  while  a  flash  of  light  broke 
in  on  her  mind,  that  made  her  clap  her  hands  for  joy. 
The  Bible  had,  till  within  a  day  or  two,  lain  in  the 
window,  in  a  room  where  Gow  had  often  been  alone  —  pen 
and  ink  were  always  there  —  he  must  have  done  it,  and 
for  the  purpose  of  learning  to  counterfeit  her  hand, — 
and  how  well  he  has  succeeded !  But  if  he  could  do 
this,  why  not  also  have  written  the  letter  he  had  received 
purporting  to  be  from  Ashley  —  he  did,  he  did !  As 
this  rapid  process  ran  through  her  mind  to  the  conclu 
sion,  she  flew  to  the  pretended  letter  from  Ashley  —  com 
pared  all  the  little  peculiarities  of  the  hand  to  the  writ 
ing  just  discovered,  and  doubted  no  longer.  "  It  is,  it  is 
so  !  He  did  write  me  —  Martin  gave  the  villain  the  let 
ter,  and  he  kept  it,  and  by  it  counterfeited  the  hand  in 
the  letter  they  gave  me.  O,  a  mountain  is  off  my 
heart !  Ashley,  my  dear  Ashley,  is  still  faithful !  O, 
how  could  I  ever  have  doubted  him  !  But  I  will  now 
live  —  now  save  myself  for  him  —  in  spite  of  them  all  I 
will  do  it,  and  hesitate  no  longer  about  exposing  this 
wretch,  and  bringing  him  to  punishment."  Such  were 
the  exclamations  of  May,  as  she  paced  the  room  in  a 
delirium  of  joy.  It  was  her  first  thought  to  write  im 
mediately  to  her  lover,  and  she  had  seized  a  sheet  for 
the  purpose;  but  a  second  thought  suggested  that  the 
real  letter  might,  after  all,  have  contained  something 
similar  to  what  she  had  received,  or  at  least  something, 
which,  if  she  had  it,  would  materially  vary  what  she 


88  MAY    MARTIN, 

was  about  to  write,  and  that  she  had  better  defer  her 
purpose  till  she  thought  over  the  possibilities  of  obtain 
ing  it.  She  reasoned  that  the  letter  was  still  in  existence, 
as  Gow  would  keep  it,  thinking  he  might  have  occasion 
to  counterfeit  the  hand  again,  in  the  prosecution  of  his  de 
signs —  that  he  probably  would  not  carry  it  about  his 
person,  for  fear  of  losing  or  accidentally  exposing  it,  and 
that  it  was,  doubtless,  now  in  his  cabin  in  the  woods,  and 
most  likely  left  unconcealed,  as  she  had  gathered  from 
various  intimations  that  he  staid  there  alone,  and  that 
no  one  ever  presumed  to  approach  his  retreat.  And 
having  already  pretty  well  ascertained  that  the  em 
ployment  of  Gow  and  his  associates  in  the  woods  was 
that  of  digging  money  or  precious  ores,  which  she  sup 
posed  he  had  persuaded  them  to  believe  could  be  found 
there,  and  knowing  that  he  must  necessarily  be  absent 
from  his  cabin  whenever  they  were  engaged  in  digging, 
which,  from  Martin's  going  and  returning,  she  had  learnt 
was  the  first  part  of  the  night,  she,  not  thinking  of  any 
one  whom  she  could  employ  for  the  purpose,  conceived 
the  bold  project  of  going  herself  into  the  mountain,  by 
night,  after  the  family  had  retired,  and  of  attempting 
to  get  possession  of  the  letter.  But  how  should  she 
ascertain  where  this  cabin  or  shanty  was  situated  ?  In 
her  younger  years,  she  had  often,  and  with  delight, 
rambled  through  the  woods  with  her  mates  in  search 
of  nuts,  or  medicinal  roots  and  herbs,  for  the  yearly 
supply  of  the  family.  She  knew  well  the  whole  tract 
of  forest  back  to  the  mountains,  and  even  a  portion  of 
them  she  had  occasionally  ascended  —  but  how  was  this 
to  enable  her  to  find  in  the  night  a  place  which  was 
not  known  even  to  the  associates  of  the  man,  who 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


89 


from  no  creditable  motives,  she  suspected,  had  thus 
carefully  concealed  his  retreat  ?  She  knew  not ;  but  her 
discovery  had  given  a  new  impulse  to  her  life,  rousing 
every  thought  and  energy  of  her  soul  into  action,  and 
so  far  from  yielding  to  the  obstacle,  her  mind  became 
busied  in  expedients  to  overcome  it. 

There  was  in  the  neighborhood  a  boy,  of  about  fifteen 
years  of  age,  known  by  the  appellation  of  Shrewd  David, 
the  prefix  of  which  was  gained  him  by  his  uncommon 
sagacity  and  keenness  of  observation  of  all  that  was 
passing  around  him.  Being  the  son  of  a  poor  widow 
by  the  name  of  Butler,  who,  supporting  herself  by  her 
loom  and  needle,  and  having  no  business  for  the  boy  ex 
cept  to  take  care  of  her  cow  and  procure  her  wood,  had 
left  him  mostly  to  shift  for  himself;  and  although  bred 
in  ignorance,  yet  for  doing  an  errand,  riding  for  the  doc 
tor,  in  cases  of  great  emergency,  or  going  as  an  express 
on  affairs  requiring  secrecy  and  prudence,  he  had  ac 
quired  a  character  for  great  despatch,  skill,  and  fidelity ; 
and  as  for  finding  a  sheep  or  kine,  strayed  and  lost  in 
the  woods,  or  the  more  daring  feats  of  seeking  out  the 
retreat  of  a  mischievous  bear  or  wolf,  none  were  equal 
to  Shrewd  David ;  for,  naturally  intrepid,  nimble  and 
active  as  a  squirrel,  which  he  delighted  to  follow  to  the 
tops  of  the  highest  trees,  and  crafty  in  expedients  as  the 
doubling  fox,  which,  with  the  keenness  of  the  grey 
hound's  sight,  tind  almost  the  fleetness,  he  often  drove 
to  the  long-eluded  burrow,  there  was  scarcely  a  rood 
of  mountain  or  moorland  in  the  settlement  with  which 
he  was  not  familiar.  Among  others,  he  had  several 
times  been  employed  by  Ashley  as  an  assistant  in  his 
surveys  in  the  woods ;  and  May  had  often  heard  her 
8* 


90  MAY    MARTIN, 

lover  speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  the  capacity  and 
honesty  of  the  hardy  little  woodsman. 

As  our  heroine  sat  by  her  window  facing  the  garden 
at  the  back  of  the  house,  her  mind  absorbed  in  devising 
means  for  accomplishing  the  object  on  which  we  left 
her  pondering,  her  eye  caught  the  form  of  the  boy  just 
described,  sitting  on  a  rock  and  fishing  for  trout,  in  a 
brook  which  ran  by  the  house  just  without  the  enclo 
sure  of  the  garden  ;  and  the  thought  instantly  occurred 
to  her  that  he  would  be  a  useful  and  trusty  assistant 
in  effecting  the  object  she  had  in  view.  Full  of  this 
idea,  she  immediately  repaired  to  the  fence  opposite, 
and  within  a  few  feet  of  the  spot  where  the  boy  was 
sitting. 

"  Come,  trout,"  he  was  saying  to  himself,  as  he  sat  so 
deeply  engrossed  in  his  tantalizing  employment  as  not 
to  have  heeded  the  noiseless  approach  of  his  visitor  — 
"come,  come,  trouty,  I  gives  you  a  fair  invite  to  be  at 
my  breakfast  to-morrow  morning;  and  I  knows  you 
are  aching  to  snap  at  that  worm,  as  bad  as  I  am  to 
have  you  ;  so  out  from  under  the  rock  with  you,  in  a 
jiffin.  Well,  now,  blast  your  scary  picture,  I  guesses  I 
can  wait  as  long  as  you  can,  any  how." 

"  What  luck  to-day,  David  ? "  at  length  asked  May, 
hesitating  to  interrupt  him  in  his  soliloquy. 

"  Why,"  exclaimed  the  boy,  rapidly  throwing  the 
glances  of  his  keen  gray  eyes  about  him,  till  they  set 
tled  on  his  fair  interrogator  —  "why,  Miss  May!  dog 
my  cat,  but  you  half  scares  me  !  What  luck  ?  O,  not 
much  —  the  flies  are  getting  so  thick,  that  the  fishes  be 
gin  to  think  they  can  get  their  dinners  at  a  cheaper  rate 
than  I  offers  them." 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  91 

"  But  you  like  the  employment,  don't  you,  David  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  when  they  ain'*t  so  dainty  about  their  victuals 
—  but  rather  dull  music  now.  I  loves  better  to  be  scram 
bling  over  the  mountains  with  Mr.  Ashley.  When  will 
he  come  back  ?  But  they  say  he  ain't  a  coinin  back  ever." 

"  I  am  sure  —  I  expect  —  that  is,  I  hope  he  will  return, 
David,"  replied  May,  blushing,  and  hesitating  at  being 
brought  so  very  abruptly  to  the  very  subject  she  had  at 
heart. 

"  Why,  mother  says  he  sent  a  letter  about  marrying 
another  girl ;  and  they  all  say  you  are  going  to  marry 
that  Mister  Gow,  that  folks  think  is  such  a  wonderful 
man,  —  and  was  published  last  Sunday." 

"  I  have  just  heard  that  I  was  published." 

"  Just  heard  !  —  now  that's  a  good  one,  Miss  May." 

«  David !  " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Could  I  trust  you  with  a  secret  ?  " 

"What  secret?" 

"  Why,  if  I  wished  to  engage  your  assistance  in  some 
affair  that  I  had  reasons  for  keeping  secret,  would  you 
try  to  oblige  me,  and  keep  it  to  yourself?" 

"  I  mought,  and  then  I  mought  not  again,"  replied  the 
boy,  with  a  droll,  shrewd,  half-serious  and  half-joking  ex 
pression.  "  I  jumps  at  the  chance  a  month  agone ;  but 
the  fact  is,  Miss  May,  when  I  hears  you  are  going 
to  have  that  Mister  Gow,  I  don't  like  you  so  well  as  I 
wants  to." 

"  Well,  David,  I  don't  blame  you  for  it ;  but  if  that  is 
all  you  dislike  in  me,  we  can  be  friends  again  at  once; 
for  I  can  assure  you  I  will  never  marry  Gow,  if  there  is 
any  way  to  prevent  it." 


92  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Good  now  !  "  exclaimed  he,  jumping  up  with  anima 
tion,  and  throwing  down  his  fish  pole  hard  upon  the  rock, 
—  "there!  see  that  pesky  trout  whipping  off!  "  he  con 
tinued,  in  an  under  tone,  pointing  into  the  brook. 

"  But  why,  David,  should  you  care  about  my  marrying 
Gow  ?  " 

"  Because  I  hates  him.  You  see  I  likes  to  know  what's 
going  on,  and  goes  one  day  to  the  mountain  and  finds 
where  they  digs  a  nights  for  money.  Well,  while  I  looks 
about  there,  guessing  it  all  out,  down  comes  that  mister, 
with  a  switch  in  one  hand  behind  him,  and  afore  I 
thinks  any  thing's  to  pay,  gives  me  two  or  three  tough 
ones,  right  over  my  head,  and  says,  '  Now  keep  off,  you 
little  himp,  or  I  cuts  you  into  mince  meat.'  But  David 
Butler  is  not  made  of  wood  —  he  remembers  and  thinks. 
So  I  watches  every  thing,  and  soon  makes  up  my  mind 
that  he's  a  black  one,  trying  to  tomfool  the  folks,  and  get 
away  their  money  —  for  I  finds  they've  been  round  bor 
rowing  money;  and  what  for  is  it?  They  don't  want  it 
to  make  their  potatoes  grow,  I  guesses.  And  what  for  is 
it,  too,  that  he  wants  to  be  alone  there  in  the  mountains, 
where  nobody  must  see  his  place  ?  " 

"  True,  true,  David  —  shrewd  they  rightly  call  you  —  I, 
too,  have  suspected  nearly  all  this,  and  still  know  some 
thing  besides  of  the  fellow.  And  now  will  you  keep 
my  secret  and  engage  for  me  ?  It  is  this  same  villain 
that  I  want  you  to  assist  me  in  defeating.  Will  you 
promise  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  May,  I  promises  now,  and  what  I  says  I 
does." 

"  Well,  David,  I  have  discovered,  as  I  think,  that  the 
letter  you  heard  of  was  made  up  by  Gow  to  deceive  me, 
arid  make  me  listen  to  his  offers." 


OK    THE    MONEY"    DIGGERS.  93 

"  Zounds  !  I'd  fix  him.  And  Mr.  Ashley  didn't  write 
any  letter  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  satisfied  he  did ;  for  Gow  could  have  had 
no  other  means  of  counterfeiting  Mr.  Ashley's  hand. 
Mr.  Martin  took  the  letter  from  the  office,  and  gave  it  to 
Gow,  who,  I  feel  very  sure,  has  still  got  it,  and  keeps  it 
laid  away  in  his  place  in  the  mountain.  Do  you  know, 
David,  where  this  is." 

"  I  guesses  pretty  close  at  it.  I  thinks  it  is  the  old 
cave  that  Mr.  Ashley  and  I  once  finds  in  coming  over  the 
mountain.  I  sees,  almost  every  night,  just  after  dark,  a 
little  glim  of  light  away  up  there,  just  peeping  through 
the  trees." 

"  Is  there  such  a  place  ?  That  is  doubtless  it,  then. 
Now,  David,  can  you  go  and  get  me  the  letter  ?  " 

"What!  in  the  daytime?  He's  always  there,  and 
won't  let  me  have  it." 

"  No,  in  the  night,  when  he's  away  with  the  diggers." 

"  May  be  the  old  man's  there.  They  do  say,  Miss  May, 
he's  the  old  one  himself,  helping  them  dig  money  with 
the  black  art.  I'd  go  for  you  and  take  a  bear  out  of  a 
trap,  if  'twas  as  dark  as  a  nigger's  pocket ;  for  I  always 
knows  how  to  fight  such  like,  —  but  the  old  one !  —  I 
fears  to  go  alone,  cause  of  he." 

"But  if  I  would  go  with  you?"  said  May,  smiling  at 
his  superstitious  fears,  but  thinking  it  would  be  useless 
to  combat  them. 

"  You  !  you,  Miss  May  ?  " 

"  Yes,  David,  I  will  go,  this  very  night,  as  soon  as 
mother  's  asleep  —  they  have  not  been  digging  for  several 
nights  past ;  but  I  overheard  Mr.  Martin  say  they  were 
going  to  begin  again  to-night ;  and  Gow  of  course  will 


94  MAY     MARTIN, 

be  absent  from  his  cave.  Will  you  come,  go  with  rne, 
and  guide  me  to  the  place  ?  " 

"  I  goes,"  said  the  little  fellow,  plucking  up  —  "  the  old 
one  never  comes  near  if  you  be  there,  Miss  May,  and  I 
fears  nothing  else." 

"  Well,  then,  meet  me  at  this  spot  to-night,  as  soon  as 
you  see  the  light  put  out  in  mother's  room  ;  and  though 
it  is  out  of  my  power  to  pay  you  now,  David,  I  will 
some  day  or  other  see  you  handsomely  rewarded." 

"  I  works  for  pay  sometimes,  cause  mother's  poor  — 
but  I  likes  Mr.  Ashley,  and  I  likes  you,  now  —  and  I 
goes  just  as  well  for  likes  as  money." 

So  saying,  and  gathering  himself  up  proudly,  the  little 
fellow  took  his  fishing  implements  and  hastily  moved  off, 
as  if  his  excited  feelings  were  hurrying  him  away  to  pre 
pare  for  the  expedition. 

"  Don't  forget  to  be  here  to-night  in  season,"  said  May, 
calling  after  him. 

"  I  never  forgets  any  thing,"  replied  the  boy,  increasing 
his  pace. 

Our  heroine  now  returned  to  her  domestic  avocations, 
in  a  state  of  the  highest  excitement,  created  by  her  newly- 
raised  hopes,  and  the  thoughts  of  her  projected  adven 
ture,  and  impatiently  awaited  the  time  set  for  undertak 
ing  it.  It  was  her  first  object  to  obtain  her  letter ;  but 
although  her  great  anxiety  for  its  possession  had  prompt 
ed  to  this  bold,  and,  to  a  female  situated  as  she  was, 
somewhat  hazardous  enterprise,  she  yet  had  other  induce 
ments  to  visit  the  cavern.  She  highly  suspected  Gow 
of  deep  and  complicated  villany,  and  thought  it  not 
improbable  that  something  might  there  be  discovered 
which  would  enable  her  to  unmask  him  ;  for,  if  any  of 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  95 

his  deeds  had  rendered  him  obnoxious  to  punishment, 
she,  in  view  of  justice  and  public  good,  as  well  as  her 
own  wrongs  and  her  own  safety,  was  fully  determined  to 
expose  him,  by  every  means  in  her  power,  believing  this 
was  now  not  only  due  from  her,  but  the  surest,  and  per 
haps  the  only  way  she  could  escape  from  the  dreadful  fate 
which  seemed  so  menacingly  impending  over  her  unpro 
tected  head. 


96  MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"Who  for  others  prepare 

A  trap  should  beware 
That  they  do  not  themselves  fall  into  the  snare." 

AT  the  appointed  hour,  May  repaired  to  the  spot 
agreed  on,  in  the  garden,  and  found  her  sturdy  little  guide 
already  there,  patiently  awaiting  her  arrival. 

"Ah,  ha!  Miss  May,"  said  David,  cautiously  peering 
about  —  "up  to  the  chalk,  after  all!  that's  a  brave  one, 
for  a  lady  —  I  guesses,  all  the  afternoon,  as  how  you'd 
flummux,  when  it  come  dark." 

"  Not  so  easily  frightened,  David.  Are  you  ready  ? 
Lead  on,  then." 

On  this,  they  silently  set  forward  across  the  fields,  and 
soon  reached  the  woods.  Before  entering  them,  however, 
the  boy,  proposing  a  halt,  mounted  several  tall  stumps 
successively,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  an  observation; 
and , having  at  last  succeeded,  he  returned  to  the  side  of 
his  companion  and  observed,  — 

"I  sees  a  little  twinkle  up  there,  once  in  awhile  — 
there !  I  sees  it  from  here  now  —  here,  look  where  I 
points  —  do  you  see  it  now  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  did  catch  it  then." 

"  Well,  that's  the  place  —  about  half  a  mile  off—  I 
knows  a  good  cow  path  to  the  mountain  —  but  when  we 
gets  there,  I  knows  but  one  way  to  the  cave  —  nation 
bad  and  steep,  too,  Miss  May  ;  but  I  finds  the  way,  for 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


97 


all  the  dark  —  and  here,  feel  the  end  of  this  cord ;  I  brings 
it  for  you  to  hang  on  to,  so  you  don't  get  lost  in  the  bushes. 
And  now,  Miss  May,  if  you  isn't  afeard,  I  leads  you  to 
the  spot ;  I  guesses  that  Mister  has  come  down  among 
the  diggers,  by  this  time,  for  I  watches  and  sees  them 
going  afore  I  comes  for  you.  So  now,  if  the  old  man 
isn't  there,  we  finds  a  clear  run  and  no  snakes." 

"  David,"  said  May,  not  knowing  how  far  the  boy's 
hobgoblin  fears  might  carry  him,  in  case  they  met  any 
one,  and  being  aware  how  much  depended  on  him  in 
the  adventure,  "  you  have  very  wrong  notions  about  this 
old  man  who  has  been  seen  about  here  ;  he  is  either  some 
poor,  crazy  vagabond,  or  else  a  brother  rogue  of  Gow; 
but,  at  all  events,  nothing  more  than  a  man." 

"  O,  I  fears  nothing  for  him  ;  cause  if  he  be  the  old 
one,  when  he  sees  you,  Miss  May,  he  clears  out  in  a 
hurry." 

The  boy  now  plunged  into  the  woods,  followed  by  his 
daring  companion,  and,  striking  into  the  path,  proceeded 
slowly  and  cautiously  on  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  at 
some  little  distance  from  where  the  money  diggers  were 
assembling  for  their  night's  operations. 

It  was  the  same  night  which  we  have  already  de 
scribed  as  proving  so  exciting  and  fearful  to  these  enthu 
siasts  in  searching  for  the  buried  mammon  —  we  having 
found  it  most  convenient,  in  describing  their  operations,  to 
go  forward  of  the  events  of  the  other  part  of  our  narrative. 

The  night  was  unusually  dark;  and  the  thick  mass 
of  the  full-grown  foliage  of  the  heavy,  overhanging 
forest,  completely  shutting  out  the  faint  suffusions  of 
the  sky  light,  which  was  scarcely  perceptible  even  in  the 
open  field,  and  adding  a  still  deeper  shade  to  the  ordi- 
9 


98  MAY    MARTIN, 

nary  darkness,  no  common  or  unaccustomed  hand  could 
have  succeeded  in  advancing  in  the  woods  at  all,  much 
less  in  reaching  any  given  point  at  a  distance ;  but 
Shrewd  David,  familiar  with  every  peculiar  tree,  every 
turn  of  the  path,  and  every  inequality  of  the  ground, 
and  possessed  of  a  vision  uncommonly  acute,  carrying  a 
long  stick  in  his  hand  to  apprise  him  of  each  interposing 
obstacle,  while  his  bare  feet  informed  him,  by  the  feel, 
of  the  first  step's  deviation  from  the  slightly-trod  path, 
threaded  the  difficult  way  with  surprising  accuracy,  find 
ing  but  little  trouble  for  himself,  and  kindly  endeavoring, 
by  removing  every  limb  or  bush  from  the  way,  and  timely 
notifying  her  of  every  log  or  other  obstacle  to  be  sur 
mounted,  to  aid  his  less  practised  companion  in  her  more 
embarrassed  progress. 

Sometimes  the  resolution  of  May  for  a  moment  wa 
vered,  and  her  heart  almost  misgave  her,  at  the  boldness 
of  her  own  undertaking,  and  the  difficulties  of  its  ac 
complishment;  but  a  sense  of  her  own  wrongs  as  often 
occurring  to  rouse  her  bosom  to  resistance,  and  the 
thoughts  of  what  must  soon  be  her  fate  without  a  per 
severance  in  her  plans  impelling  her  onward  to  action, 
bore  up  her  courage  through  all,  and  tempered  her 
usually  mild  spirit  with  an  energy  adequate  to  the  try 
ing  emergency. 

They  at  length  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  here  steeply- 
ascending  mountain.  David  now  again  came  to  a  halt, 
for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  his  bearings  and  finding 
the  most  feasible  place  for  climbing  the  ascent.  After 
groping  about  a  while,  he  returned,  and,  informing  May 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  finding  the  place  where  he 
intended  to  go  up,  he  led  her  to  the  spot. 


OR     THE     MONEY     DIGGERS.  99 

"  Now,  Miss  May,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  cautious  tone, 
"  now  for  the  tougher !  I  listens  and  just  hears  the  dig 
gers  at  their  work  —  not  a  great  ways  off  from  here,  they 
are  now  —  that  mister,  I  guesses,  has  come  down  afore 
this;  but  if  he  ain't,  and  we  meets  him,  I  hears  him 
coming  time  enough ;  and  when  I  gives  three  jerks  of 
the  cord,  you  must  slink  under  a  bush  or  something,  and 
lie  still  as  a  mouse,  and  I  does  the  same,  till  he  gets  by. 
So  now  lets  pull  for  it." 

"  Bless  me  ! "  said  May,  being  just  able  to  discern  the 
dark  outline  of  the  steep  which  rose  like  the  wall  of  a 
house  before  her  —  "bless  me,  David,  we  haven't  got  to 
climb  up  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  no  other  way  for  it  —  but  never  mind,  we  goes 
it  —  and  I  tells  you  what,  Miss  May,  you  tie  the  end  of 
the  cord  round  you,  like  I've  done  —  there!  now  let  them 
white  hands  work  for  their  living  —  I  seizes  at  the  roots 
and  bushes  along  up ;  and  if  you  pulls  me  back,  you 
must  be  stronger  than  that  pesky  old  bear  that  grappled 
hold  of  my  trousers  last  summer,  just  as  I  springs  and 
scrambles  up  a  sapling  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  her." 

With  this  they  commenced  their  laborious  and  diffi 
cult  task  of  climbing  the  mountain. 

Slowly  clambering  from  tree  to  tree,  and  rock  to  rock, 
our  sturdy  and  active  little  mountaineer,  followed  by  his 
scarcely  less  agile  and  resolute  companion,  continued  to 
work  his  way  several  hundred  feet  up  the  almost  perpen 
dicular  ascent,  till  they  came  to  a  narrow  level,  beyond 
which  an  upright  and  wall-like  ledge  interposed  an  in 
surmountable  obstacle  to  their  proceeding  any  farther  in 
the  direction  they  had  been  pursuing. 

"  Ah !  I  remembers  this  cute  place,"  whispered  David, 


100  MAY    MARTIN, 

as  they  both  dropped  down  on  a  mossy  rock,  on  reaching 
the  summit,  through  sheer  exhaustion  from  the  severity 
of  their  struggles.  "  I  remembers  this  —  we  are  most 
there  now  —  only  go  along  a  piece  on  this  level  till  we 
comes  to  the  end,  and  then,  when  we  mounts  another 
rock,  and  just  gets  round  a  point  of  a  ledge,  there's  the 
cave  —  no  trouble  but  we  finds  it,  cause  see !  there's 
more  light,  now  we've  got  above  the  tops  of  the  trees, 
down  there  below." 

Our  adventurers  again  set  forward  along  the  scanty 
shelf  towards  the  north,  keeping  as  near  to  the  ledgy 
barrier,  on  the  left,  as  possible,  as  on  the  right,  and  often 
within  a  yard  of  their  feet,  yawned  the  black  and  fearful 
chasm  of  the  precipice,  here  falling  down  perpendicularly 
some  hundred  feet  beneath  them.  They  soon,  how 
ever,  and  safely,  reached  the  termination  of  their  walk 
in  this  direction.  For  at  this  place,  while  the  shelf 
along  which,  for  nearly  a  hundred  yards,  they  had  now 
passed,  considerably  widened,  a  tall  rock  shot  out  boldly 
from  the  ledge  on  the  left,  forming  a  rectangular  area  of 
several  square  rods  of  level  surface,  in  the  corner  of  which 
stood  a  small  tree,  whose  branches  overtopped  the  ledge 
above,  here  not  more  than  ten  feet  in  height. 

"  There !  Miss  May,"  said  the  little  guide,  "  when  we 
gets  up  a  top  of  this,  we  are  within  a  few  rods  of  the 
place  where  the  mister  stays,  as  I  now  feels  sure,  cause 
I  finds  the  twigs  and  bushes  broke  off  along  back  there, 
where  he  brushes  by  in  going  and  coming;  and  I  knows 
well  enough  nobody  else  comes  to  this  mortal  place. " 

"  Yes,  David,  but  how  are  we  ever  to  get  up  there  ?  " 

u  Why,  I  supposed  all  the  time  that  he'd  a  fixed  up 
some  contrivance  to  get  up  and  down  ;  but  I  sees  none. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  101 

When  Mr.  Ashley  and  I  come  down,  we  gets  up  into 
the  top  of  that  tree  ;  but  you  can't  climb,  can  you,  Miss 
May?" 

"  I  never  tried  it,  David,  I  believe,  or,  at  least,  not  late 
ly  ;  but  is  there  no  other  way  ?  " 

"  Stay  a  bit  —  let's  see  a  little,"  replied  the  boy.  So 
saying,  and  passing  along  the  base  of  the  ledge,  he  soon 
announced  that  he  saw  something  projecting  over  the  top 
of  the  rock,  which  he  thought  to  be  some  kind  of  a  lad 
der.  And  now,  nimbly  mounting  the  tree,  and  jumping 
on  to  the  rock,  he  proceeded  to  let  down  the  contrivance 
he  had  discovered,  which  proved  to  be  a  light  ladder, 
composed  of  two  poles  distended  at  the  ends  by  split 
sticks,  with  strong  bark  ropes  confined  at  proper  intervals 
to  the  sides  to  serve  in  lieu  of  rounds.  Our  heroine  coura 
geously  mounted,  and  soon  stood  at  the  side  of  her  com 
panion  on  the  top  of  the  rock.  Here  they  found  another 
small  level,  nearly  enclosed  by  another  and  still  loftier 
ledge  of  rocks.  After  pulling  up  and  carefully  adjusting 
the  ladder  in  its  original  position,  David  proposed,  as,  from 
finding  the  ladder  at  the  top,  Gow  might  still  be  in  the 
cave,  to  leave  May  under  a  projecting  cliff',  and  go  round 
the  point  of  the  ledge,  which  only  intervened  between 
them  and  the  cave,  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoitring  the 
spot.  Accordingly  he  noiselessly  slunk  away  ;  and  after 
a  short  absence,  he  returned,  and  creeping  close  up  to 
May,  he  put  his  mouth  to  her  ear,  and  whispered,  — 

"  Sure  as  guns,  Miss  May,  they  be  there  yet !  " 

"  They !  "  repeated  the  other  with  some  agitation,  — 
"  they  !    who  ?  are  there  two  of  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  mister,  and  another  oldish  man,  who  I  al 
most  thinks  must  be  the  old  man   himself;  though  for 
9* 


102  MAY    MARTIN, 

certain  he  ain't  got  the  same  awful  queer  face  on  now 
that  he  had  when  I  gets  a  peep  at  him  one  day  in  the 
edge  of  the  woods.  They've  built  out  a  sort  of  place 
with  stakes  and  bark  right  afore  the  cave,  so  as  to  make 
it  come  all  in  one  room  ;  so  I  creeps  up  behind,  and  gets 
a  look  at  em  through  the  holes." 

"  Ah,  ha ! "  mused  May,  "  this  old  man  then  wears  a 
disguise  —  he  is  beyond  all  doubt  an  associate  of  Gow. 
But  what  is  to  be  done  now,  David  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  thinks  we  better  creep  round  where  I  did,  so 
as  to  be  on  the  back  side,  cause  I  expects  the  mister,  and 
may  be  tother  one,  comes  this  way  soon  now,  to  go  down 
to  the  diggers  ;  and  if  they  takes  a  light,  they  see  us  ;  but 
if  we  goes  round  there,  they  won't  go  that  way  for  any 
thing,  I  guesses  ;  and  if  they  do,  we  can  slink  off'  into  the 
bushes  ;  for  there's  a  clear  run  that  way.  So  we  better 
get  round  there,  and  wait  till  they  goes,  or  we  gives 
it  up." 

May  at  once  falling  in  with  this  advice,  our  adven 
turers  proceeded,  with  the  utmost  silence  and  caution, 
round  the  projecting  point,  and  immediately  found  them 
selves  directly  in  front  of,  and  not  twenty  yards  from  the 
entrance  of  the  cavern.  Voices  were  now  distinctly 
heard  within;  while  a  portion  of  light  escaped  through 
the  narrow  entrance,  which  was  stopped  by  setting  a 
broad  piece  of  bark  upright  on  the  inner  side  before  it. 
With  a  slight  shudder  May  obeyed  the  motions  of  her 
guide,  and  they  passed  on,  keeping  as  great  a  distance 
from  the  cave  as  the  still-continued  precipice  on  the  right 
would  safely  permit,  and  soon  reached  a  spot  where  the 
offset  of  the  ledge  forming  the  cave  seemed  to  terminate, 
leaving  an  opening  of  only  a  gentle  rise  up  the  moun- 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  103 

tain.  Here,  safe  from  discovery,  they  sat  down  to  watch 
the  movements  of  the  inmates  of  the  cave,  the  new 
addition,  or  front  of  which,  was  still  in  plain  sight. 

"  See  that  little  streak  of  light  through  the  side  there, 
Miss  May?  Well,  there's  where  I  gets  my  peep.  Sup 
pose  now  you  creeps  up  and  tries  it,  and  I  comes  after 
you  gets  still." 

"  Can  I  do  it  without  danger  of  being  heard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  feels  every  place  where  you  puts  your  foot 
down,  to  see  that  there's  no  dry  brush  or  leaves  to  make 
a  noise." 

Another  moment  and  our  heroine  was  gliding  silently 
to  the  spot — another,  and  she  was  breathlessly  seeing 
and  hearing  all  that  was  passing  within.  The  two  wor 
thies  were  seated  on  a  rude  bench,  made  of  a  cleft  log, 
placed  before  a  small  fire,  built  just  without  the  entrance 
of  the  natural  cave,  so  as  to  afford  the  smoke  a  chance 
to  escape  through  the  opening  left  in  the  bark  roof  above. 

"  Let's  see,  to-day  is  Thursday,"  observed  the  elder,  a 
man  apparently  about  fifty,  the  first  to  break  silence  after 
May's  arrival  at  her  loophole.  "  To-day  is  Thursday 
—  next  Tuesday  evening  brings  your  concern  to  a  focus, 
hey  ?  " 

"  Next  Tuesday,  my  old  boy,  is  the  day  that  gives  me 
as  smart  a  little  jade  of  a  wife  as  ever  handled  broom 
stick —  together  with  all  the  appurtenances  thereunto 
belonging,  as  my  old  dad's  parchment  used  to  run." 

"  Ay,  ay,  the  appurtenances  after  division,  remember! 
As  to  the  wife,  she  should  have  been  named  last ;  she  is 
but  the  incumbrance." 

"  Why,  as  for  that,  Col.,  she  is  really  so  smooth  a  piece, 
that  I  think  I  can  stick  to,  and  be  quite  husband-like  for 


104  MAY    MARTIN, 

a  year  or  so ;  and  by  that  time  I  intend  to  have  all  said 
appurtenances  in  the  shape  of  cash  in  my  pocket.  After 
which  I  shall  probably  be  ready  for  a  little  high  life,  by 
way  of  adventures,  again." 

"  Having  duly  and  impartially  divided  —  " 

"  What  a  suspicious  devil  you  are,  Col. !  Yes,  yes,  I 
am  honest,  and  honor  bright  in  this  business,  depend  on't." 

"  Really!  —  you  well  know  how  I  can  help  myself,  if 
you  don't  walk  straight,  my  conscientious  lad." 

"  Come,  none  of  your  threatening —  I  can  do  as  much 
even  at  that  as  you  can,  I  am  thinking.  But  as  to  this 
affair,  I  freely  say  you  will  be  well  entitled  to  share  the 
plunder,  let  it  be  as  much  as  it  may  ;  for  you  first  started 
the  project,  and  gave  me  the  chance.  But  how,  Col.,  did 
you  happen  to  find  out  that  the  old  man  made  such  a 
will  ?  You  never  told  me  exactly,  I  think." 

"  Why,  hearing  that  the  old  man  was  confined,  and  all 
others  there,  who  formerly  knew  me,  dead  or  removed, 
I  ventured  to  spend  some  months  in  town  ;  and  remain 
ing  there  till  after  the  old  fellow  popped  off,  when  the 
subject  of  his  family  and  estate  was  a  good  deal  talked 
of,  I  happened  one  day  to  overhear  a  lawyer,  who 
drew  the  will,  telling  a  friend  all  the  particulars.  He 
said  Frank  had  written  home  a  penitent  letter,  informing 
his  father  of  his  private  marriage  in  the  days  of  his  wild 
oats,  long  before  he  went  abroad,  and  that  though  his 
wife  died  at  the  birth  of  her  first  child,  yet  that  child 
probably  was  still  living,  having  been  left  with  some 
family  in  the  north  part  of  New  Hampshire,  and  wind 
ing  off  by  asking  the  old  man's  forgiveness,  and  hoping 
he  would  provide  for  his  chiki,  a  daughter,  he  was  told. 
On  which  the  old  man  forgot  all  his  temper  —  threw  the 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  105 

old  will,  cutting  Frank  off,  into  the  fire  —  made  a  new 
one,  giving  him  all  his  property  except  these  legacies, 
in  case  the  girl  was  alive.  I  afterwards  went  to  the 
register's  office  myself,  and  under  some  pretence  or 
other,  got  a  peep  at  the  will,  and  found  it  as  I  had  heard. 
It  was  then,  knowing  Frank  would  come  home  from 
France  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  his  father's  death,  to  take 
possession  of  his  estate,  I  hunted  you  up,  and  put  you 
on  this  scheme  so  as  to  have  all  done  before  his  return." 

"  And  all  shall  be  done,  my  precious  old  match-maker; 
but  my  very  good  friends,  the  money  diggers,  are  by  this 
time  on  the  ground  below,  and  doubtless  impatient  for 
my  coming  —  I  must  be  off.  Let's  see,  how  many  of 
your  salt  and  water  rusty  dollars  did  you  bury  there?" 

"  Just  thirty,  I  believe." 

"  Five  apiece,  hey  ?  Zounds  !  how  the  fellows  will 
jump  at  the  sight  of  'em,  if  they  are  of  domestic  manu 
facture ! —  that  is,  if  my  very  worthy  friend,  the  devil, 
here,  don't  frighten  'ern  out  of  their  senses." 

"  Yes,  but  you  had  better  have  heard  to  me,  Gow, 
and  put  them  off  till  the  night  before  or  after  you 
are  married.  The  fools,  I  am  afraid,  will  go  and  pass 
some  of  their  dollars ;  and  then  we  stand  an  even 
chance  to  get  blown  up  before  you  bring  your  affair  to 
a  point." 

"  Blown  up  !  how?  We  get  five  hundred  dollars  of  the 
real  to-night,  and  as  for  what  they  dig  up,  we  shall  not 
pass  it,  and  who  can  know  where  it  comes  from?" 

"  No,  no,  but  they  will  some  way  or  other  connect  it 
with  you ;  and  if  they  do  suspect  you,  I  tell  you  again, 
ten  to  one  if  it  don't  blow  your  marriage  into  moon 
shine." 


106  MAY    MARTIN 


"  They  won't  pass  it — our  plan  of  secrecy,  till  they 
get  fairly  hold  of  the  treasure,  will  prevent  that ;  at 
least,  till  I  secure  my  treasure,  and  the  next  day,  under 
pretence  of  a  short  journey,  I  am  off*  with  my  wife,  you 
see  ;  and  you  the  same  night,  as  soon  as  you  find  me 
fairly  buckled,  I  suppose.  But  I  must  go  —  have  you 
your  disguise  ready  —  the  phosphorus  for  the  eyes  and 
mouth  of  your  mask  ?  Well,  then,  come  on  pretty  soon 
—  get  a  good  position  in  the  bushes  near,  and  when  I 
sing  out — '  There's  the  money  —  seize  if  —  then  you  — 
but  you  know  how  to  manage." 

With  this,  Gow,  lighting  a  small  pocket  lantern,  with 
which  both  he  and  his  associate  seemed  provided,  left 
the  cabin,  and  May,  who  sat  trembling  with  apprehen 
sion  lest  he  should  come  round  the  corner  and  discover 
her,  soon,  to  her  great  relief,  heard  him  let  down  the 
ladder  and  descend.  David,  after  Gow's  departure,  came 
crawling  to  the  side  of  his  companion,  and  now  shared 
with  her  the  crevice,  in  observing  the  movements  of  the 
remaining  inmate  of  the  place.  The  old  man,  on  being 
left  alone,  soon  sunk  into  a  deep  reverie,  and  sat  so 
long,  in  his  mute  and  motionless  abstraction,  that  his 
silent  and  unsuspected  observers  began  to  fear  that  he 
intended  to  remain,  or  that  he  would  fall  asleep,  and 
thus  defeat  their  purpose  of  searching  the  interior.  At 
last,  however,  rousing  up  and  shaking  off  his  seeming 
lethargy,  he  arose,  went  back  into  the  cave,  and  brought 
out  the  different  articles  of  his  disguise  for  the  part  he 
was  about  to  enact  in  the  farce  below.  He  then,  taking 
up  and  fitting  on  a  frightful-looking  mask,  turned  round, 
protruding  his  long  neck  forward,  first  on  one  side,  then 
another,  as  if  practising  attitudes  and  trying  to  hit  on 
the  most  hideous. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  107 

"  Wheugh  !  —  wheu !  —  "  went  David,  forcing  out  his 
breath  in  a  sort  of  half  whistle,  and  then  suddenly 
checking  himself,  and  relapsing  into  silence. 

The  old  man  next  took  from  a  little  box  and  rubbed 
round  the  small  outlets  for  the  eyes  and  mouth  what 
appeared  to  be  a  whitish  substance,  but  which,  as  the 
shade  occasionally  fell  on  the  face,  shone  like  fire. 
Then  taking  off  his  coat,  rolling  his  shirt  sleeves  up  to 
his  shoulders,  and  baring  his  neck,  he  drew  some  bright 
red  ochre  several  times  from  ear  to  ear,  giving  his  throat 
the  appearance  of  having  been  cut  across  in  a  long, 
bloody  gash.  After  which  he  put  on  an  old,  sleeveless 
shirt,  apparently  besmeared  in  spots  of  gore,  and  then 
surmounted  this  dress  with  a  white  horsehair  wig,  rising 
stiff  and  bristly  on  the  top  of  the  head,  like  a  tuft 
of  porcupine  quills,  and  flowing  down  in  long,  snaky 
ringlets  over  his  neck  and  shoulders  below,  making  a 
whole  as  grotesque  and  hideous  as  could  well  be  im 
agined.  Having  thus  completed  his  equipment,  he  lit 
his  lamp,  and  carefully  raking  up  the  fire,  departed,  to 
be  ready  for  the  performance,  with  which  the  reader  has 
already  been  made  acquainted. 

"  O,  lightning!"  exclaimed  David,  as  soon  as  the  re 
ceding  footsteps  of  the  man  had  died  away  on  his  ear, 
"  the  very  dogskin  that  I  sees  by  the  woodside  — I  knows 
him  the  minute  he  gets  his  queer  tother  face  on.  Well, 
if  I  didn't  think  all  the  time  he  must  be  the  old  one ! 
But  now  —  twheugh !  he's  no  more  devil  than  I  be." 

"  I  fear  he  is,  David,  in  wickedness." 

"  O,  he's  as  bad  as  the  old  one,  may  be,  —  but  what 
thinks  you  he's  going  to  do,  Miss  May?" 

"  I  have  learnt  their  whole  plot.     You  were  right  in 


108  MAY    MARTIN, 

your  suspicions.  These  deliberate  villains  are  about  to 
defraud  these  men,  whom  they  have  duped  with  the 
idea  of  finding  a  treasure,  out  of  a  large  sum  of  money, 
and  are  expecting  to  get  hold  of  it  to-night  —  I  have  also 
heard  some  very  strange  things  about  myself,  I  think  it 
must  be  —  which  I  may  some  time  tell  you.  But  now, 
David,  let  us  proceed  to  the  business  for  which  we  came 
—  what  I  have  been  listening  to  had  nearly  driven  it 
from  my  mind.  If  you  will  watch  at  the  point  of  rocks 
yonder,  to  give  me  notice,  should  either  of  them  return, 
I  will  go  in  myself,  and  see  what  can  be  found. 

The  boy  readily  complying,  May  now  unhesitatingly 
entered  the  place  just  left  by  the  unsuspecting  foes  of 
her  happiness,  who  were  little  dreaming  that,  while 
with  such  confidence  of  success  they  were  weaving  the 
meshes  of  their  toils  for  others,  the  least  suspected  of 
their  intended  victims,  a  poor,  unfriended  girl,  had  al 
ready  fathomed  their  villanous  designs,  and  was  rapidly 
preparing  a  mine  soon  and  fatally  to  explode  beneath 
their  feet.  On  entering  the  cabin,  May  kindled  a  bright 
fire,  and  proceeded  to  the  search.  Going  at  once  into 
the  interior  of  the  rock,  she  came  to  a  rude  shelf  on 
which  were  placed  some  articles  of  provisions,  among 
which  was  a  part  of  a  loaf  of  bread  of  her  own  baking, 
while  beneath,  on  the  smooth  stone  floor,  were  ranged 
a  plate  or  two,  a  few  knives  and  forks,  and  the  scanty 
utensils  with  which  they  prepared  their  food.  Pausing 
a  moment  over  these  with  womanly  curiosity  and  criti 
cism,  she  passed  on,  and  soon  came  across  sundry  tools, 
the  use  of  which  she  at  first  was  at  a  loss  to  understand. 
A  few  imperfectly  formed  dollars,  however,  lying  near, 
and  now  catching  her  eye,  at  once  explained  the  mys- 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  109 

tery  —  they  were  a  die  and  other  implements  for  coin 
ing. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  exultlngly,  well  aware  of  the  penal 
ties  of  counterfeiting,  "  now,  at  least,  I  have  him  in  my 
power  —  but  that  for  a  last  resort." 

And  she  went  on  prying,  in  vain,  into  every  place  and 
corner,  for  the  main  object  of  her  search,  till  she  had 
nearly  given  up  all  hope  of  success.  Turning  to  take 
one  look  more,  however,  before  she  went  out  the  door, 
she  espied  a  pocket  inkstand  and  the  corner  of  some 
writing  paper  protruding  from  a  small  opening  or  crev 
ice  in  the  rock,  over  the  fire,  which  was  not  observable 
from  other  parts  of  the  room.  She  flew  to  the  spot,  and 
by  the  aid  of  the  bench  placed  slantingly  against  the 
rock,  made  shift  to  reach  and  draw  out  the  loose  paper, 
among  the  leaves  of  which  was  a  crumpled  and  soiled 
letter.  Hastily  descending  and  holding  it  to  the  fire, 
she  looked  at  the  superscription  —  ran  her  eye  quickly 
over  a  few  lines  here  and  there  —  glanced  at  the  signa 
ture  at  the  bottom,  and,  with  an  ejaculated  "  Thank 
Heaven ! "  eagerly  thrust  the  precious  prize  into  that  fe 
male  "receptacle  of  things  lost  on  earth,"  the  trusty 
bosom.  Carefully  replacing  every  thing  as  she  found  it, 
she  hurriedly  left  the  cave,  and  in  another  moment  had 
announced  her  success  and  her  discoveries  to  her  com 
panion,  and  with  him  was  on  her  way  homeward. 

Another  half  hour  found  our  heroine  standing  on  the 
spot  at  the  garden  where  she  started,  safe  returned  from 
the  exciting  and  perilous  adventures  of  the  night,  and 
giving  directions  to  her  trusty  little  friend  to  be  there  the 
next  morning  to  take  a  letter  to  the  village  to  her  be 
trothed,  to  whom  she  could  now  pour  out  her  soul  with 
10 


110  MAY    MARTIN, 

confidence  as  undoubting  as  the  fresh-lit  flame  of  her 
love  was  unquenchable. 

We  will  not  attempt  to  analyze  or  describe  the  tu 
multuous  and  mingled  feelings  that  agitated  the  bosom 
of  May  after  she  found  her  head  safely  resting  on  her 
pillow  on  that  eventful  night.  Now  prayers  of  thank 
fulness,  at  her  timely  discovery  of  the  plots  of  her  ene 
mies,  were  moving  her  lips  —  now  tears  of  joy,  at  the 
possession  of  a  prize  bringing  such  happiness  to  her 
heart,  were  suffusing  her  sleepless  eyes  ;  and  now  vari 
ous  and  tantalizing  conjectures  were  racking  her  mind, 
as  she  deeply  pondered  on  the  vague  and  partial  intel 
ligence  she  had  obtained  concerning  her  own  history, 
hitherto  a  blank  to  her,  but  now  connected,  she  no  longer 
doubted,  with  her  present  misfortunes,  and  giving  rise  to 
the  motives  of  her  tormentor's  anxiety  to  force  her  into 
marriage  —  till  her  busy  thoughts  and  varying  emotions, 
gradually  fading  and  sinking  into  chaos,  became  min 
gled  and  lost  in  the  blank  oblivion  of  the  living  death, 
which  "nature's  great  restorer,  balmy  sleep,"  brings  to 
the  disturbed  and  weary. 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  Ill 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  The  time  shall  come,  nor  long  remote,  when  thou 
Shalt  feel  more  pangs  than  thou  inflictest  now." 

THE  first  dawning  light  of  the  next  morning  found 
May  eagerly  poring  over  the  letter  from  her  lover  which 
she  had,  the  last  night,  so  luckily  obtained.  She  found 
it  all  that  she  expected,  and  all  that  her  heart  desired. 
It  told  glowingly  of  his  unabated  affections,  of  his  anx 
iety  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms,  and  wound  off  by  express 
ing  his  hope  and  expectations  of  being  able  to  return 
some  wweeks  sooner  than  he  told  her  at  their  parting. 
After  she  had  finished  the  perusal,  and  before  any  one 
else  was  stirring  in  the  house,  she  seized  her  pen  and 
wrote  a  hasty  letter  to  Ashley,  briefly  relating  all  that 
had  occurred  since  his  departure,  and  imploring  him,  as 
he  loved  —  as  he  would  save  her — to  fly  to  her  relief. 

Soon  after  breakfast,  May  caught  a  glance  of  her  new 
ally  coming,  punctual  to  his  appointment,  carelessly  fish 
ing  along  up  the  brook  to  the  old  place  of  rendezvous, 
where  he  patiently  awaited,  behind  the  intervening 
shrubbery,  the  coming  of  his  mistress,  who  soon  found 
opportunity  to  steal  away  unobserved  and  approach  him. 
Intrusting  her  letter  to  his  care,  to  be  given  into  the  post 
master's  own  hand,  she  informed  David  that  she  had  de 
termined  to  get  a  delay  of  the  time,  set  for  the  wedding, 
long  enough  to  allow  Ashley  to  reach  there  previous  to 


112  MAY    MARTIN, 

the  day  to  which  she  was  in  hopes  of  getting  the  wed 
ding  postponed.  This  was  her  first  resort ;  and  if  this 
failed,  she  must  then  make  use  of  the  means  which  last 
night's  adventure  had  given  her ;  for,  as  much  as  the 
delicacy  of  her  feelings  recoiled  at  becoming  the  public 
accuser  of  Gow  of  a  crime  of  which  she  was  fearful  that 
Martin,  and  perhaps  others,  would  be  implicated,  she  be 
lieved  this  the  only  way  then  left  her  of  averting  the  now 
doubly-revolting  destiny  that  awaited  her.  With  this, 
and  commissioning  him  to  get  some  trifling  articles  at 
the  village  store,  she  dismissed  her  messenger,  with  direc 
tions  to  repair  to  the  same  spot  on  his  return. 

At  Martin's  return  to  the  house  for  his  noon  meal, 
May,  feeling  herself  impelled  by  the  necessity  of  imme 
diate  action,  and  making  an  effort  to  overcome  her  re 
luctance  to  any  further  negotiation  with  one  who  had 
acted  so  treacherously  towards  her,  gave  him  to  under 
stand  that  she  was  acquainted  with  all  the  steps  he  had 
taken  as  preliminary  to  his  bestowing  her  on  Gow,  and 
besought  him  and  his  wife,  in  the  most  moving  terms, 
to  relinquish  their  cruel  purpose.  But  she  besought 
them  in  vain.  They  replied  only,  as  she  had  antici 
pated,  by  now  pleading  not  only  her  conditional  promise, 
but  what  Martin  termed  her  after  consent,  and  insisted 
on  her  yielding  without  further  ado.  Perceiving  any 
more  entreaty  on  this  point  useless,  she  then  begged  a 
postponement  for  a  few  weeks.  But  this  request  re 
ceived  even  less  favor  than  the  former;  and  although 
they  had  manifested  no  surprise  when  she  apprised  them 
of  her  knowledge  of  the  publishment  and  the  appoint 
ment  of  the  day  of  wedding,  believing,  doubtless,  she 
heard  it  from  some  neighbor,  and  being  well  pleased, 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  113 

probably,  that  they  had  thus  been  saved  the  task  of  mak 
ing  to  her  an  announcement  which  they  knew  must  soon 
be  made,  and  which  they  could  hardly  put  on  the  face  to 
make  —  although  they  had  shown  no  surprise  in  this,  or 
her  subsequent  request,  yet  the  moment  she  spoke  of  a 
delay,  they  started,  exchanged  glances  of  suspicion,  and, 
without  assigning  the  least  reason  for  refusing  to  listen 
to  what  would  have  been,  on  their  assumption  of  Ash 
ley's  desertion,  neither  dangerous  to  their  purposes  nor 
unreasonable  in  itself,  pointedly  denied  her  request,  and 
in  such  bitterness  of  expression  and  unfeeling  abuse  as 
drove  her  again  in  tears  from  the  room. 

"  He  will  have  it  so,"  said  May,  after  sitting  a  while 
alone,  indulging  in  grief  and  revolving  in  her  mind  the 
different  chances  now  left  for  her  escape  from  the  threat 
ened  fate ;  "  there  is  no  other  way  short  of  exposing  Gow 
and  bringing  him  to  justice;  and  if  it  involves  Martin, 
the  fault  is  not  mine.  Gladly,  for  all  his  baseness  and 
cruelty,  gladly  would  I  save  him  from  disgrace,  and  per 
haps  a  prison,  for  having  given  me  a  home  —  once  a  kind 
home,  however  the  bad  passions  may  have  since  twisted 
his  heart.  But  he  will  have  it  so ;  and  now  for  the 
speediest  method  of  bringing  the  character  and  crimes 
of  that  dark  villain,  Gow,  to  light." 

Such  was  the  stern  resolution  to  which  our  heroine  had 
reluctantly  arrived.  Gladly,  as  she  said,  would  she,  in 
remembrance  of  the  past,  and  even  in  forgetfulness  of 
the  present,  have  averted  from  the  head  of  her  foster 
father  the  infamy  which  she  had  reason  to  believe  would 
fall  upon  him  in  consequence  of  the  measures  she  had 
now  been  driven  to  the  alternative  of  adopting — joyful 
ly  have  flown  to  him  on  her  return  from  the  mountain  — 
10* 


114  MAY    MARTIN, 

imparted  her  discoveries,  and  thus  have  saved  him  and 
herself  from  the  consequences  of  Govv's  villany,  had  she 
believed  him  only  to  be  the  innocent  dupe  of  the  other's 
artifice.  But  this  she  could  scarcely  believe,  for,  from 
the  great  intimacy  obviously  existing  between  the  two,  — 
from  the  part  Martin  had  taken  relative  to  the  forged  let 
ter,  and  from  his  character  for  intrigue,  low  cunning,  and 
avarice,  which  she  knew  to  be  his  leading  traits,  —  she 
drew  the  partially  erroneous  conclusion  that  they  were 
confederates,  not  only  in  entrapping  her,  but  in  coining 
money  and  duping  their  other  associates.  Under  these 
circumstances,  therefore,  every  .measure  of  this  kind,  she 
supposed,  would  be  useless,  and  might  be  the  means  of 
defeating  her  own  objects. 

Towards  night,  Shrewd  David  returned  from  the  vil 
lage,  and  his  employer  again  met  him  alone  at  the 
usual  place. 

"  Well,  David,  I  have  had  more  troubles  since  I  saw 
you ;  I  have  entirely  failed  in  my  attempt  to  gain  time. 
But  you  delivered  the  letter  —  and  there  was  nothing  in 
the  office  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes !     No !  " 

"  O,  if  there  could  have  been  one !  I  did  not  much  ex 
pect  one,  however.  Did  you  recollect  my  little  errand  ?  " 

"  The  silk  thread  ?  Yes,  Miss  May,  here  it  is,  in  this 
paper." 

May  took  the  parcel  from  the  boy,  and,  opening  it,  dis 
engaged  the  silk  from  the  wrapper.  The  latter  was  a 
printed  paper,  and  she  listlessly  began  running  over  the 
contents ;  when  she  soon  started,  as  if  finding  something 
which  had  caused  her  some  sudden  emotion. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  paper,  David?"  earnestly 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  115 

asked  she,  her  eyes  still  riveted  on  the  words  before 
her. 

"  Why,  the  storekeeper  puts  it  round  the  silk." 

"  Did  he  say  where  he  obtained  it  ?  This  is  not  such 
as  they  usually  wrap  their  goods  in  —  it  is  a  printed 
handbill." 

"  Yes,  I  remembers  now ;  he  first  says  his  wrapping 
paper's  all  out  —  then  he  goes  to  the  door,  swung  back 
inside,  and  tears  down  a  paper,  and  says,  '  This  has  been 
here  long  enough,'  and  wraps  the  silk  in  it." 

"  Do  you  know  how  it  reads,  David  ?  " 

"No!  I  never  opens  it  —  what  is  it,  Miss  May,  that 
makes  you  look  so  queer  about  it  ?  " 

"  Now,  David,"  she  continued,  after  reading  the  de 
scription  of  the  thief's  person,  and  the  horse  he  had  ab 
ducted —  "  now  tell  me,  have  you  ever  seen  such  a  person 
as  is  here  described  ?  " 

"  Why,"  replied  the  boy,  after  dropping  his  head  in 
thought  —  "why,  I  think  he  must  be  that  mister's  own 
brother,  it's  so  like  him." 

"  Nearer  home  than  that  —  it  is  Gow  himself! " 

"  By  zounds  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  more  than  you-  do  about  this ;  "  and  she 
related  the  scene  that  she  and  her  lover  witnessed  on 
Gow's  first  coming  into  the  settlement. 

"  Sure  it  is,  then,"  said  the  boy  musingly,  after  she  had 
ended.  "  But  does  them  what  tells  where  he  is  get  the 
money  ?  " 

"  Some  of  it,  I  presume ;  but  this  is  little  of  my  con 
cern  —  those  who  will  take  him  away  shall  be  welcome 
to  the  reward,  and  as  much  more,  if  I  had  it  to  give 
them.  No,  no,  not  for  the  reward,  but  to  get  rid  of  him, 


116  MAY    MARTIN, 

is  my  anxiety.  And  I  should  prefer  this  way  to  any 
other  for  doing  it,  as  it  will  take  him  at  once  out  of 
the  country,  and  involve  nobody  else.  David,  will  you 
go  again  to  the  village  to-morrow  —  take  this  to  Mr. 
Mundle,  the  sheriff,  and  without  making  use  of  my 
name,  inform  him  the  thief  is  here ;  and  tell  him  where, 
and  how  he  may  be  taken  ?  " 

"  I  does  it,  by  the  pipers." 

"  And  if  they  do  not  come  on  immediately  after  him, 
come  here  to-morrow  night  after  dark,  to  inform  me  of 
your  success." 

The  active  little  messenger,  faithful  to  his  trust,  was  at 
the  village  at  an  early  hour  the  next  day,  and  promptly 
seeking  out  Mundle,  gave  him  the  handbill,  accompany 
ing  it  with  the  information  he  was  directed  to  give  ;  but 
his  communication  was  not  received  by  the  wary  dealer 
in  rogues  with  such  cordiality  and  such  ready  confidence 
as  he  and  his  mistress  had  anticipated.  The  sheriff, 
being  one  of  those  shrewd  and  cautious  men  who  must- 
understand  the  motives,  and  see  himself  all  the  springs 
of  action  producing  any  given  measure,  before  they  make 
up  any  decided  opinion  concerning  it,  questioned  the  boy 
very  closely  relative  to  the  causes  of  his  coming;  wheth 
er  some  one  had  not  put  him  up  to  this,  through  enmity 
to  the  accused;  thinking  it  rather  strange  that  this  dis 
covery  should  not  have  been  made  before  concerning  a 
man  who  had  been  in  the  settlement  so  many  weeks 
and  who  was,  as  the  publishment  the  preceding  Sunday 
at  the  village  meeting  apprised  him,  about  to  be  married 
into  one  of  the  principal  families  of  the  former  place,  and 
deeming  a  knowledge  of  all  this  essential  to  any  reliance 
on  the  lad's  story,  he  himself  having  never  seen  Go\v, 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  117 

and  Ashley,  the  only  witness  referred  to,  being  absent. 
But  in  endeavoring  to  conceal  the  name  of  his  employer, 
as  she  directed,  and  disdaining  to  misrepresent,  David's 
answers  became  confused,  and  finally  he  refused  to  reply 
to  any  more  questions,  still  reiterating,  however,  that  he 
knew  Gow  was  a  villain,  and  the  one  who  stole  the 
horse,  which,  having  been  to  the  spot  on  his  way  to  the 
village,  he  said  might  still  be  seen  in  the  bed  of  the 
brook,  where  the  body  was  thrown,  in  such  a  state  of 
preservation  as  to  enable  one  to  identify  sundry  marks 
described  in  the  handbill. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me,  my  lad,"  said  the  sheriff, 
musingly,  "  who  is  at  the  bottom  of  this ;  but  you  may 
have  good  reasons,  after  all,  for  your  conduct ;  for  I  have 
often  heard  of  you,  when  I  have  been  up  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  as  an  honest,  capable  boy  ;  and  in  a  day  or  two 
I  will  inquire  into  this  affair." 

But  David  was  not  to  be  put  off  in  this  way.  He  still 
hung  round  the  sheriff,  and  continued  to  urge  his  request 
to  have  something  done  immediately. 

"  Well,  well,  boy,"  said  Mundle,  at  length,  wearied  by 
the  importunity  of  the  former,  "we  may  as  well  see  what 
steps  can  be  taken,  if  your  story  be  true,  now,  as  ever; 
so  go  with  me  to  Squire  Johnson's." 

They  accordingly  proceeded  to  the  village  justice, 
when  the  sheriff  made  known  David's  story,  and  the  poor 
boy  was  again  subjected  to  a  close  scrutiny  by  his  honor, 
resulting,  however,  much  the  same  as  his  previous  exam 
ination.  The  justice  and  the  sheriff  then  held  a  consulta 
tion  apart.  After  which,  the  latter  came  and  told  David 
that  as  Gow  had  never  been  arrested  in  New  Hampshire, 
where  the  horse  was  stolen,  it  was  their  opinion  that  they 


118  MAY    MARTIN, 

had  no  authority  to  take  him  till  they  had  written  on  and 
obtained  a  warrant  there  ;  but  that,  as  the  justice  thought 
he  had  once  seen  Gow  in  passing  by  Martin's  some  weeks 
before,  and  believed  he  would  answer  to  the  description 
of  the  handbill,  they  had  concluded  to  go  on  with  the 
business,  which,  if  every  thing  was  kept  still,  might  be 
brought  about  in  a  week  or  ten  days,  and  that,  therefore, 
he  had  better  now  go  home,  and,  saying  a  syllable  to  no 
one  on  the  subject,  wait  patiently  for  their  movements. 

"  A  whole  week ! "  exclaimed  David,  with  a  look  of 
disappointment  and  regret;  "it  will  then  be  too  late  — 
t'other  thing  must  be  done." 

"  Why  too  late,  my  lad  ?  "  asked  both  gentlemen  at 
once ;  "  why  too  late  ?  and  what  other  thing  do  you 
mean?" 

"  Why,  I  guesses  I  won't  tell  now ;  no,  not  till  I  sees 
first."  And  so  saying,  the  boy  turned  on  his  heel  and 
vanished,  leaving  his  auditors  greatly  puzzled  how  to 
understand  his  singular  conduct,  and  more  than  half 
inclined  to  believe  his  whole  story  a  sheer  fabrication. 

Our  heroine,  who  had  hailed  with  pleasure  this  last 
measure  which  had  so  unexpectedly  opened  for  accom 
plishing  in  the  least  objectionable  way  her  purposes,  and 
who,  confidently  relying  on  success,  had  waited  all  day 
with  trembling  solicitude  for  the  effects  which  she  ex 
pected  the  communication  of  her  messenger  would  imme 
diately  produce,  listened  with  no  small  degree  of  pain  and 
disappointment  to  the  account  which  David  gave  her  that 
night,  after  his  return,  of  the  failure  of  his  mission ;  for 
failure  it  was,  as  to  all  that  regarded  the  main  objects  she 
had  in  view.  Deeply  did  she  regret  that,  not  seeing  the 
possibility  of  such  a  result,  she  had  restricted  the  boy, 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  119 

whose  prudence  and  sagacity  would  ha^e  otherwise 
prompted  him  to  adopt  her  other  measure  in  reserve,  and 
bitterly  did  she  now  denounce  that  hesitation  and  false 
delicacy  which  had  prevented  her,  after  her  visit  to  the 
cavern,  from  immediately  taking  the  most  efficient  meas 
ures  within  her  reach  for  effecting  a  purpose  which,  she 
more  and  more  became  convinced,  her  duty  to  herself,  her 
lover,  and  to  the  public,  alike  loudly  demanded  at  her 
hands.  And  she  trembled  to  think,  that  only  one  more 
business  day  intervened  before  the  dreaded  Tuesday, 
which  she  began  to  fear  was  destined  to  seal  the  doom 
of  her  wretchedness. 

"  Go,  David,"  she  said,  "  go,  early  Monday  morning, 
again  to  the  village  ;  there  is  now  no  more  time  for  doubts 
or  delays ;  go,  go,  seek  out  Mundle  and  Johnson  ;  tell  them 
all  —  tell  them  that  May  Martin  has  been  in  the  very  den 
of  these  villains,  overheard  their  plots,  seen  and  handled 
their  tools  for  counterfeiting,  even  found  the  false  dollars 
they  had  made  with  them,  and  that  she  will  not  hesitate 
to  swear  to  it  all ;  tell  them  this,  and  whatever  else  they 
require  and  you  know,  and  see  if  that  will  not  arouse 
them  to  action.  Go,  my  faithful  friend;  everything  now 
depends  on  you.  I  know  you  will  not  desert  me  now. 
Go;  and  may  Heaven  speed  you!" 

The  next  day,  it  being  Sunday,  Gow  visited  Martin's. 
It  was  the  first  time  May  had  seen  him  since  her  visit  to 
the  cavern ;  and  she  recoiled  from  his  approach  as  from 
the  touch  of  a  viper,  while  she  could  scarcely  keep  her 
tongue  from  giving  expression  to  the  feelings  of  indigna 
tion  and  abhorrence  with  which  his  presence  now  more 
than  ever  filled  her  bosom.  He  did  not  long  remain  to 
add  to  her  distress  by  his  hated  presence ;  for,  after  a  few 


120  MAY    MARTIN, 

fruitless  trials  to  reconcile  her  to  his  attentions,  he  petu 
lantly  gave  up  the  attempt,  and  departed  to  join  his  more 
congenial  companion  in  their  mountain  retreat,  leaving 
his  intended  victim,  whom  he  now  considered  already 
secure  in  his  toils  without  further  effort,  to  count  the  slow 
and  lingering  hours  which  must  pass  before  she  could  be 
cheered  with  the  consciousness  that  something  was  doing 
to  snatch  her  from  her  impending  fate.  Monday  at  last 
came,  but  with  it,  to  the  utter  discomfiture  of  May,  came 
a  drenching  rain  storm,  which  she  knew  must  prevent  her 
messenger  from  proceeding  on  her  mission.  Often  and 
vainly,  during  this  gloomy  day,  did  she  strain  her  anxious 
eye  in  gazing  at  the  dark  and  impenetrable  clouds,  to 
catch  some  sign  of  the  storm's  abating.  But  no  such 
appearance  greeted  her  sight.  The  rain  continued  to 
pour  in  ceaseless  torrents,  till  night,  closing  in  with 
Egyptian  darkness,  cut  off  all  hope  for  the  efforts  of  that 
day,  and  sent  her  once  more  to  her  cheerless  pillow,  de 
jected,  and  fast  beginning  to  despond  of  her  extrication 
from  the  fate  to  which  the  current  of  events,  in  spite  of 
her  means  of  resisting  it,  appeared  sweeping  her  on,  and 
which  the  very  elements  themselves  seemed  combined  to 
fix  upon  her.  She  did  not,  however,  despair;  she  knew 
that  if  David  could  go  to  the  village  in  the  morning,  and 
succeed  in  rousing  them  there  to  immediate  action,  they 
would  reach  the  settlement  in  time  for  her  rescue.  At 
the  worst,  she  determined  either  to  proclaim  Gow's  vil- 
lany  before  the  clergyman  and  assembled  company,  if 
matters  came  to  that  pass,  and  resist  the  proceeding  of 
the  ceremony  on  the  spot,  or  secretly  elope  from  the 
house,  and  fly  to  some  friendly  roof  for  protection.  After 
a  night  of  inexpressible  anxiety  and  wretchedness,  she 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


121 


started,  at  the  first  faint  dawning  of  the  morning  light, 
from  her  perturbed  slumbers,  hastily  rose,  and  went  to 
the  window.  To  her  great  joy,  the  rain  had  wholly 
ceased,  and  the  clouds,  that  yesterday  enveloped  the  earth 
like  a  shroud  of  mantling  blackness,  having  now  broken 
away  and  disappeared,  had  given  place  to  a  clear  sky 
and  a  bland  atmosphere.  After  standing  a  while,  to  let 
the  soft  and  balmy  breeze  fan  her  feverish  brow,  she 
dressed  herself  and  went  down  into  the  yard.  Knowing 
it  would  be  some  time  before  the  inmates  of  the  house 
would  be  likely  to  rise,  and  fearing  that  her  little  friend 
might  not  proceed  on  her  mission  without  a  fresh  bidding, 
she  slowly  proceeded  up  the  road  towards  his  residence, 
which  was  in  plain  sight,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  dis 
tant,  with  the  hope  that  she  might  see  him  around  the 
door,  to  beckon  him  to  meet  her.  She  had  proceeded  but 
a  few  rods,  however,  before  she  unexpectedly  encountered 
him  approaching. 

"  Where  now,  David  ?  "  she  said ;  "  I  can  hardly  expect 
you  have  started  out  on  my  business  so  early.  I  was 
fearful  you  had  forgotten  it,  and  was  coming  to  see  if  I 
co aid  get  a  word  with  you  before  the  folks  were  up." 

"  Forgets !  that  ain't  David  Butler  ;  but  how  it  rained 
yesterday !  I  ached  all  day  to  be  a-going." 

"  But  have  you  really  started  for  the  village  ?  How  did 
you  get  away  so  very  early  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  tells  you  how  it  was.  Mother  haunts  me 
to  know  what  for  I  goes  all  these  times;  and,  last  night, 
she  promises  to  say  nothing  about  it ;  so  I  tells  her  all. 
Well,  then  she  gets  into  a  taking,  says  Miss  May  is  a 
poor  injured  orphan,  and  God  will  protect  her.  Then, 
after  she  goes  to  bed,  I  hears  her  in  the  night,  crying 
11 


122  MAY    MARTIN, 

again  about  it,  and  praying  like.  Then  she  gets  up  afore 
day,  and  says  she  can't  sleep,  so  gets  me  some  breakfast, 
and  tells  me  to  go  right  off?' 

"  It  was  right,  perhaps,  David,  that  you  should  tell 
your  mother,  and  I  feel  very  grateful  for  her  sympathy," 
said  May,  brushing  away  the  tears  that  had  started 
during  this  simple  recital  of  the  interest  her  wrongs  had 
awakened  in  the  bosom  of  her  pious  and  unpretending 
neighbor;  "but  do  you  still  feel  willing  to  go  and  do  as 
I  last  directed  you  ?  " 

"  I  goes  till  I  wears  my  feet  off  to  my  knees,  to  save 
Miss  May  for  Mr.  Ashley,"  was  the  heroic  reply. 

"  Go,  then  ;  there  may  be  time  enough  yet  for  all ;  go, 
my  little  friend,  and  may  kind  Heaven  grant  you  sue- 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  123 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"  They're  coining !  they're  coming  !  their  horses  are  fleet, 
And  doomed  are  the  wretches  they  quickly  will  meet." 

WE  will  now  change  the  scene  •  of  our  little  story, 
which  the  events  of  this  day  were  destined  to  bring  to 
a  fearful  termination. 

On  a  road  deeply  embowered  in  the  heavy  forest,  about 
fifteen  miles  south  of  the  Harwood  settlement,  and  half 
that  distance  from  the  village  before  mentioned,  a  solitary 
horseman,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  so  momentous  to 
the  fortunes  of  our  heroine,  was  pursuing  his  lonely  way 
towards  the  scenes  we  have  just  left.  The  day  was  one 
of  uncommon  sultriness,  even  for  the  sultry  month  of 
August ;  and  the  traveller,  occasionally  plucking  a  fresh 
bough  from  the  overhanging  branches  to  keep  oft1'  the  flies 
that  were  swarming  around  his  vexed  horse,  and  stinging 
him  at  times  to  madness,  seemed  to  look  with  compas 
sion  on  the  foamy  sides  of  the  suffering  animal,  and  often 
appeared  to  repress  the  involuntary  motion  which  he 
frequently  made  to  urge  him  forward  at  a  quicker  pace. 
"  It  is  cruel,"  at  length  said  the  rider,  seemingly  address 
ing  his  horse  —  "  it  is  cruel  in  me  to  force  you  on  at  this 
rate,  in  this  suffocating  air,  merely  to  gratify  my  selfish 
feelings  ;  you  have  no  loving  and  loved  one  in  prospect 
to  incite  your  steps  to  speed."  So  saying,  he  threw  the 
reins  loosely  on  the  dripping  mane  of  the  horse,  and,  for 
the  next  mile,  amused  himself  with  watching  the  flies, 


124  MAY    MARTIN, 

and  endeavoring,  with  a  sort  of  malicious  pleasure,  to 
strike  down  the  most  determined  of  their  band,  as  these 
little  winged  tormentors  were  settling  on  their  wincing 
victim,  and  often  goading  him  into  a  trot. 

Arriving  now  at  a  point  where  another  road  from  the 
eastward  fell  into  the  one  he  was  travelling,  Ashley  —  for 
such,  as  the  reader  has  doubtless  already  anticipated,  was 
our  traveller,  making  his  way  to  the  settlement,  and  intend 
ing  to  take  his  mistress  by  an  agreeable  surprise,  it  being 
considerably  sooner  than  she  had  reason  to  expect  his  re 
turn —  Ashley,  we  say,  at  this  point  of  intersection,  was 
joined  by  another  horseman.  The  man  was  considera 
bly  past  the  prime  of  life,  and  his  hair,  indeed,  began  to 
be  slightly  sprinkled  by  the  frost  of  time,  while  his  fea 
tures,  really  handsome  and  commanding,  wore  something 
of  the  pensive  and  thoughtful  cast.  Bowing  with  re 
spectful  ease  peculiar  to  the  well-bred  —  a  class  to  which, 
from  both  his  dress  and  demeanor,  he  very  evidently 
belonged  —  he  fell  in  by  the  side  of  Ashley. 

"Our  travelling  fortunes  seem  to  unite  here,"  said  the 
stranger,  as  a  languid  smile  played  gently  on  his  lips. 

"  That  smile,"  thought  Ashley,  "  and  those  features  too, 
seem  familiar  to  me;  I  must  have  seen  them,  or  some 
thing  like  them,  somewhere,  though  certainly  I  know  not 
this  man  ; "  and  he  mused  a  while,  but  vainly,  in  trying  to 
recall  some  more  definite  remembrance,  or  to  account  for 
the  impression  thus  received.  After  some  commonplace 
conversation  about  roads,  distances,  and  the  like,  the 
stranger  observed, — 

"  From  some  of  your  remarks,  sir,  I  am  led  to  conclude 
that  you  are  a  resident  somewhere  in  the  vicinity;  may. 
I  ask  how  far  you  proceed  in  this  direction  ?  " 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  125 

"  I  am  going  to  Harwood  settlement,  as  the  place  is 
called  ;  it  is  my  residence,  now  something  near  twelve 
miles  distant,"  replied  Ashley. 

"  Indeed !  "  said  the  stranger,  with  evident  interest,  "  I 
too  propose  going  to  that  place." 

"Do  you?"  asked  the  other,  throwing  an  inquiring 
glance  on  his  companion,  as  if  conjecturing  his  probable 
business ;  "  a  proprietor  of  lands  in  the  neighborhood,  I 
conclude,  we  may  call  you,  or  perhaps  about  to  become 
a  purchaser." 

"  Or  perhaps  a  curious  traveller,  in  search  of  the  novel 
and  picturesque  among  your  wild  mountains,"  evasively 
said  the  stranger,  with  a  good-natured  smile. 

"  That  smile  again ! "  said  Ashley  to  himself ;  and  he 
began  to  feel  an  undefinable  interest  growing  in  his  bosom 
towards  his  new  acquaintance. 

"  Do  you  know,"  resumed  the  elder  traveller,  after  a 
few  moments'  silence  —  "do  you  know  a  family  in  your 
settlement  by  the  name  of  Martin  ?  " 

"  Intimately,"  replied  Ashley,  with  a  look  in  which 
some  surprise,  as  well  as  inquiry,  was  exhibited. 

"  Has  he  much  of  a  family  ?  " 

"  Rather  small  I  should  call  it,  sir ;  he  has  no  children 
of  his  own." 

"Of  his  own?  Has  he  those  of  others  living  with 
him?" 

Growing  more  and  more  surprised  and  sensitive  at  the 
inquiries  of  the  stranger,  as  they  touched,  at  every  ques 
tion,  nearer  and  nearer  the  great  point  of  interest  to  his 
own  feelings,  Ashley,  with  visible  emotion  and  some 
hesitation,  replied,  "  There  is  a  young  lady  living  with 
Mr.  Martin  in  the  character  of  an  adopted  daughter;  or, 
11* 


126  MAY    MARTIN, 

rather,  that  was  the  case  when  I  left  there,  about  five 
weeks  since." 

"  Her  name  and  age,  if  you  will,  sir  ?  " 

"  They  call  her  May,  and  after  their  family  name ;  her 
age  is  nearly  eighteen,"  again  replied  Ashley,  in  a  some 
what  constrained  and  half-jealous  tone  and  manner, 
which  the  stranger  seemed  keenly  to  scrutinize. 

"And  this  Martin  removed  hither  from  the  borders  of 
New  Hampshire,  where  he  formerly  resided?" 

«  He  did." 

"  The  people  there,  then,  told  me  correctly,"  said  the 
stranger  in  an  under  tone,  apparently  communing  with 
himself;  "but,"  he  continued,  again  raising  his  voice  to 
a  conversational  pitch,  and  turning  to  Ashley  —  "but, 
as  you  appear  so  familiar  with  the  girl's  age,  &c.,  you 
may  also  be  able  to  tell  me  something  of  her  character, 
and  the  standing  she  maintains  among  you." 

"  You  would  hardly  ask  those  questions  about  May 
Martin,  sir,  if  you  had  seen  or  heard  much  of  her,"  said 
Ashley,  somewhat  resentfully.  "  I  could  easily  answer 
them,  by  merely  reiterating  the  unanimous  voice  of  her 
neighbors  ;  but,  before  you  pursue  your  inquiries  any 
further,  or,  at  least,  before  you  expect  answers  to  such  as 
you  may  be  pleased  to  put  on  the  subject,  I  must  beg 
of  you  to  tell  me  your  motives  for  so  doing.  Miss  Mar 
tin  is  a  valued  friend  of  mine,  and  is  somewhat  critically 
situated  in  the  family  in  which  she  resides  ;  and  I  know 
not  what  use  may  be  made  of  the  information  I  am  thus 
imparting  to  an  entire  stranger.  You  will  excuse  my 
plainness,  I  trust,  sir." 

The  other  turned  a  full  and  searching  look  on  Ashley, 
which  was  met  by  the  latter  by  one  of  equal  scrutiny 
and  something  of  sternness  and  hauteur. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


127 


"  You  are  right,  probably,  young  gentleman,"  rejoined 
the  elder  traveller,  after  they  had  pursued  their  way 
some  rods  in  constrained  silence ;  "  the  interest  we  some 
times  feel  in  a  particular  subject  may  lead  us  to  forget 
the  bounds  which  it  is  prudent  and  proper  should  cir 
cumscribe  our  intercourse  with  strangers  ;  but  we  will 
drop  the  subject  now  ;  perhaps  we  may  know  more  of 
each  other  hereafter." 

Without  allowing  Ashley  much  chance  to  puzzle  him 
self  in  trying  to  make  out  the  character  and  objects  of 
his  companion,  or  to  reflect  on  the  remarks  which  had 
fallen  from  his  lips,  the  latter  immediately  directed  the 
discourse  to  indifferent  subjects  ;  and  the  conversation 
soon  relapsed  into  its  former  social  tone ;  though  Ashley 
sometimes  thought  he  could  perceive  an  anxiety,  on  the 
part  of  the  other,  to  draw  out  his  information,  as  well 
as  to  ascertain  his  views  and  principles  on  the  various 
points,  which  there  was  some  appearance  of  his  having 
started  for  the  purpose. 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon,  before  our 
travellers  arrived  at  the  snug  little  village,  which,  like 
most  other  villages  in  Vermont,  imbosomed  among  the 
rough  hills  and  clustered  around  a  waterfall,  served  as 
the  place  of  business  and  trade, — the  miniature  empo 
rium,  in  fact,  of  Harwood  settlement,  and  other  parts  of 
the  surrounding  country  to  many  miles  in  extent.  One 
glance  sufficed  to  tell  Ashley  that  something  of  more 
than  ordinary  occurrence  was  afoot  among  the  villagers. 
Here  stood  small  clubs  of  men  engaged  in  low  and  ear 
nest  conversation, —  there  horses  were  being  saddled  and 
led  out  in  haste,  as  if  for  some  sudden  expedition  ;  while 
numbers  were  passing  in  and  out  of  the  tavern,  one  room 


128  MAY    MARTIN, 

of  which,  as  seen  through  the  open  windows,  appeared 
to  be  occupied  by  a  dense  crowd.  Scarcely  had  Ashley 
reached  the  ground  and  thrown  the  reins  of  his  horse  to 
a  waiter,  before  Shrewd  David,  running  to  his  side  and 
exclaiming  in  tones  of  joyous  exultation,  "  O,  Mr.  Ashley 
is  come!"  grasped  with  convulsive  eagerness  the  hand 
of  his  old  friend  in  both  of  his,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Why,  my  little  friend  David  !  is  this  you  here?  —  but 
crying  !  how  is  this  ?  —  what  has  happened  ?  —  and  what 
is  all  this  going  on  here?"  rapidly  asked  Ashley,  in 
surprise. 

"  God  bless  you,  Ashley!"  cried  Mundle,  now  rushing 
out  of  the  house,  "  the  very  man,  of  all  others  on  earth, 
I  have  been  praying  most  to  see  !  But  corne  with  me  —  I 
have  a  story  for  your  ear;  and  there  is  not  much  time 
to  be  lost  in  the  telling,  as  you  will  think  yourself,  I 
presume,  when  you  have  heard  it."  So  saying,  and 
taking  the  arm  of  our  hero,  bewildered  at  what  he  saw 
and  heard,  he  led  him  aside,  with  little  David,  wiping 
his  eyes,  and  still  unable  to  speak  for  his  emotion,  fol 
lowing  them  close  at  their  heels. 

While  Ashley  was  thus  engaged,  his  companion  of 
the  road  had  entered  the  rude  piazza,  which  ran  along 
the  front  of  the  house,  and  seating  himself  on  a  bench, 
sat  apparently  scanning  the  different  faces  around  him, 
and  listening  to  such  remarks  as  fell  within  his  hearing, 
as  if  willing  to  gather  the  cause  of  the  commotion  among 
the  people,  without  concerning  himself  so  far  as  to  make 
any  direct  inquiries  respecting  it.  He  had  been  seated 
here  but  a  moment,  however,  before  the  former  rushed 
by  him  into  the  house,  and  hastily  bespoke  a  fresh 
horse  of  the  landlord,  to  be  saddled  with  all  possible 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  129 

despatch.  The  horse  was  almost  instantly  at  the  door ; 
while  Mundle,  with  a  stout  assistant,  who,  in  the  mean 
time,  had  got  in  readiness  for  a  start,  now  rode  up  and 
called  on  Ashley  to  mount.  As  the  latter  was  about 
springing  into  his  saddle,  his  late  travelling  companion 
stepped  quickly  up  and  touched  him  on  the  arm. 

"  Do  you  leave  me,  sir  ?  "  said  he,  with  some  earnest 
ness. 

"  I  must,"  was  the  quick  reply  ;  "  I  have  just  learnt 
that  which  will  urge  me  to  the  settlement  much  faster 
than  you  would  wish  to  travel ;  but  I  shall  see  you 
there  to-morrow.  Good  day,  sir." 

"  Nay,  one  moment  —  let  me  but  ask  whom  your  un 
expected  intelligence  concerns." 

«  Myself." 

"  No  others  ?  " 

«  One." 

"  The  young  lady,  concerning  whom  I  inquired  ?  " 

"  Most  deeply." 

"Enough!  —  I  attend  you  —  landlord,  my  horse  in 
stantly." 

"  But  your  horse  —  he  will  hardly  keep  pace  with  our 
fresh  ones." 

"  He  shall  at  least  try  it,  sir,"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  de 
termined  tone,  as  he  now  received  his  horse  from  the 
expert  waiter  and  sprang  into  the  saddle. 

In  another  moment  the  little  cavalcade  were  clatter 
ing  at  full  gallop  up  the  road  towards  the  settlement, 
followed  by  a  wagon  containing  another  assistant  and 
Shrewd  David,  with  cords  and  iron  handcuffs,  to  bind 
and  secure  the  prisoner  or  prisoners. 

Before  following  them  we  will  pause  an  instant  to 


130  MAY    MARTIN, 

bring  up  the  events  of  our  story  as  they  occurred  at  the 
village,  before  Ashley's  unexpected  arrival. 

David,  it  seems,  had  proceeded  directly  to  the  village, 
on  leaving  May  that  morning.  On  arriving  there,  still 
at  a  very  early  hour,  he  immediately  went  to  search  out 
Mundle  and  Johnson,  the  executive  and  judicial  func 
tionaries  of  the  law,  to  whom  he  applied  on  his  previous 
visit  to  the  village  ;  but  both  of  these  gentlemen  had 
just  ridden  out,  and,  to  his  great  vexation,  nobody  could 
tell  where  they  had  gone,  or  when  they  would  return. 
Without  the  least  thought  of  yielding  to  this  disappoint 
ment,  the  trusty  little  messenger  awaited  their  coming 
many  long  hours,  in  an  agony  of  impatience  and  anxi 
ety.  And  it  was  not  till  about  noon  that  he  caught 
sight  of  them  approaching.  He  flew  to  meet,  and  de 
tain  them  on  the  road  till  they  listened  to  his  whole 
story. 

"  Well,  rny  lad,"  said  Mundle,  after  he  had  satisfied 
himself  by  many  now  readily  answered  inquiries,  "  you 
have  told  your  story  this  time  as  you  should  do,  to 
have  us  believe  it ;  though  I  see  you  were  not  to  blame 
for  not  doing  so  the  other  day  —  I  have  had  some  hints 
of  this  money  digging  up  there,  before,  and  suspected 
mischief;  but  good  God!  Johnson,  would  you  have 
believed  there  could  have  been  found  a  man  in  Vermont 
guilty  of  the  baseness  of  Martin  towards  a  girl  who 
has  all  the  claims  of  a  daughter  ?  Thank  Heaven,  how 
ever,  there  is  time  enough  yet  to  stop  all  this,  by  just 
caging  my  gentleman  bridegroom  and  his  friend,  before 
they  dream  of  such  accommodations.  Come,  on  to 
our  dinners — then  make  out  a  warrant,  Johnson,  in  no 
time  —  I  will  be  ready  to  take  it  before  it  is  dry;  and 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


131 


you,  my  boy,  home  with  me ;  you  deserve  a  dozen  din 
ners  for  your  faithfulness  to  that  noble  girl." 

After  an  hour  spent  in  waiting  for,  and  eating,  his  din 
ner,  and  another  or  two  in  looking  up  forms  and  writing 
a  warrant,  the  dilatory  justice  was  about  bringing  his 
labors  to  a  close,  when  in  came  the  merchant,  holding  in 
his  hand  a  couple  of  counterfeit  dollars,  which  he  said 
had  just  been  passed  at  his  store  by  a  man  from  Har- 
wood  settlement,  and  demanded  a  warrant  for  his  appre 
hension  before  he  left  the  place.  Here  was  an  interrup 
tion  that  was  not  to  be  avoided;  and  David,  who  had 
determined  not  to  leave  the  ground  till  he  saw  the  sheriff 
on  his  way,  and  who  had  watched  the  slow  progress  of 
the  justice  with  the  most  restless  impatience,  as  he  now 
saw  them  drop  the  business  which  was  his  only  concern, 
and  proceed  to  this  new  case,  lost  all  control  of  his  feel 
ings,  and  fairly  cried  with  vexation  and  disappointment. 
After  a  while,  however,  which  seemed  another  age  to  the 
poor  boy,  both  warrants  were  finished,  and  the  sheriff 
despatched  to  arrest,  in  the  first  place,  the  last-discovered 
candidate  for  his  greeting  favors,  who  was  still  in  the 
village.  But,  though  Mundle  performed  his  duty  much 
more  expeditiously  than  the  other,  it  was  yet  nearly  five 
in  the  afternoon  before  he  had  secured  the  prisoner,  placed 
him  in  the  custody  of  others,  before  the  court,  at  the  tav 
ern,  and  got  released  from  his  charge,  in  order  to  proceed 
to  the  settlement,  which  he  was  just  on  the  point  of 
doing,  when  Ashley  rode  up  to  the  door. 

We  will  now  follow  the  sheriff  and  his  posse,  proceed 
ing  on  with  furious  speed,  to  a  more  interesting  scene  of 
action. 

Advancing  with  all  the  speed  they  could  urge,  —  being 


132  MAY    MARTIN, 

led  on  by  Ashley,  who,  burning  with  impatience  to 
reach  the  abode  of  his  perilled  mistress,  before  forever 
too  late,  kept  several  rods  ahead  of  all  the  others,  calling 
loudly  and  repeatedly  on  the  rest  to  come  on,  —  they  had 
not  gone  half  their  distance  before  their  horses,  now  reek 
ing  with  sweat,  and  covered  with  sheets  of  foam,  began 
to  manifest  great  distress,  and  show  evident  signs  of  giv 
ing  out,  unless  speedily  suffered  to  relax. 

"Hold!  hold  up,  Ashley!"  exclaimed  Mundle;  "this 
will  never  do ;  we  gain  nothing  by  it.  With  this  speed, 
and  in  such  a  stifling  heat  as  this,  two  miles  more,  and 
our  horses  drop  dead  under  us  ;  and  yours  will  be  the 
first  to  fail ;  see  how  he  already  falters."  A  moment's 
consideration  convinced  Ashley  of  the  justice  of  the 
sheriff's  remarks,  and  they  all  immediately  relaxed  into 
a  moderate  trot.  It  had  been  throughout,  as  before  re 
marked,  a  day  of  unusual  heat  and  sultriness.  And  now, 
although  the  sun  had  been  for  some  hours  obscured  by  a 
deep  haze  slowly  gathering  over  it,  the  heat  was  still  pain 
fully  oppressive.  The  atmosphere,  indeed,  seemed  every 
moment  to  grow  more  sultry,  thick,  and  suffocating.  Not 
a  leaf,  even  of  the  ever-trembling  aspen,  responded  to  a 
single  vibration  of  the  deadened  air,  while  the  birds  sat 
panting,  listless  and  mute,  on  the  boughs,  scarcely  mov 
ing  at  the  nearest  approach  of  man.  And  all  nature 
seemed  sunk  into  one  of  those  lethargic  calms  so  omi 
nous,  in  the  warmer  latitudes,  of  the  coming  tempest. 
Nor,  in  the  present  instance,  were  the  more  palpable  in 
dications  of  a  thunder  storm  much  longer  wanting.  Ev 
ery  moment  darker  and  broader  sheets  of  vapor  rose  up 
majestically  from  the  west,  casting  a  deeper  and  more 
lurid  shade  over  the  earth.  And  soon  the  low,  deep 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  133 

peals  of  muttering  thunder  came  booming  on  the  ear, 
increasing  each  instant  in  loudness  and  frequency.  The 
company,  now  beginning  to  be  observant  of  the  ap 
proaching  shower,  soon  came  on  to  the  top  of  a  high 
knoll,  which  gave  them,  over  the  tops  of  the  intervening 
forest,  an  open  and  unobstructed  view  of  the  western 
horizon.  One  broad,  black  mass  of  upheaving  clouds 
lay  directly  in  front,  extending  round  on  either  side  to 
the  north  and  south  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  ;  while 
in  the  centre  of  this  fearful  rack  a  huge  column  of  vapor, 
doubling  and  eddying  like  a  seething  caldron,  was  rolling 
up,  with  the  blackness  and  rapidity  of  the  smoke  of  burn 
ing  pitch. 

"Heavens  and  earth!"  exclaimed  Mundle,  glancing 
at  the  scene  before  him  ;  "  in  fifteen  minutes  that  terrific 
cloud  will  burst  upon  us  in  all  the  fury  of  a  tornado.  It 
is  but  two  miles  now;  our  horses  will  stand  it  in  this 
freshening  breeze ;  let  us  clear  the  woods,  at  least,  before 
the  tempest  strikes  us."  And  they  again  applied  whip 
and  spur,  and  put  their  horses  upon  a  keen  run. 
12 


134  MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  At  first,  heard  solemn  o'er  the  verge  of  heaven, 
The  tempest  growled  ;  but  as  it  nearer  came, 
And  rolled  its  awful  burden  on  the  wind, 
Enlarging,  deepening,  mingling  peal  on  peal 
Crushed  horrible,  convulsing  heaven  and  earth." 

WE  must  now  return  to  our  long-neglected  heroine, 
to  recount  the  occurrences  of  the  day  at  Martin's.  Slow 
ly,  to  her,  passed  the  anxious  day  that  was  destined  to 
be  the  last  one  in  which  she  was  to  be  known  by  the 
name  of  May  Martin.  The  forenoon  was  chiefly  occu 
pied  in  making  such  scanty  preparations  as  Mrs.  Mar 
tin  chose  to  direct  for  the  reception  of  the  company  at 
the  expected  ceremony  in  the  evening.  In  all  these  May 
assisted  with  a  sort  of  unnatural  alacrity,  but  with  as 
great  a  degree  of  composure  as  her  troubled  feelings 
would  permit  her  to  assume.  As  noon  approached,  she 
expected  every  moment  to  hear  the  trampling  of  horses 
at  the  door,  as  the  fruits  of  her  message,  which  she 
supposed  must  have  been  delivered  hours  before.  But 
noon  and  afternoon  came,  and  still  no  tidings  from  the 
village  were  heard ;  no  signs  of  either  messenger  or 
the  success  of  his  message  were  discoverable.  Often 
and  vainly  did  she  strain  her  aching  sight  towards  the 
woods,  in  the  direction  whence  the  expected  succor  was 
to  appear,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  approaching  horsemen. 
One  o'clock,  two,  and  three  passed,  and  still  they  came 


Oil    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


135 


not.  Perhaps  they  might  have  been  led  by  David  round 
in  the  woods  to  the  cave,  without  coming  into  the  clear 
ing —  perhaps  Gow  was  already  secured,  and  on  his  way 
back  to  the  village  —  and  the  thought  —  this  hope- 
grasped  thought  —  for  a  while  relieved  her.  But  even 
this  faint  gleam  of  consolation  soon  vanished  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  Gow  himself,  come  to  dress  and  prepare  for 
the  ceremony.  With  a  hint  from  Mrs.  Martin,  that  it 
was  time  she  had  begun  to  dress  herself  for  the  company, 
May  now  retired  to  her  room,  and  carefully  fastening  the 
door,  flung  herself  on  her  bed  in  an  agony  of  grief  and 
despair.  But  impelled  by  the  painful  consciousness  that 
the  crisis  was  at  hand  when  she  must  yield  to  her  fate, 
or  speedily  do  something  to  avert  it,  and  now  fast  relin 
quishing  all  hope  in  the  success  of  the  plan  on  which 
she  had  been  relying  for  her  extrication,  she  soon  roused 
herself,  and  summoned  all  her  energies  for  deciding  what 
course  to  pursue  in  the  fearful  emergency.  Could  she 
trust  herself  to  carry  into  effect  one  of  the  alternatives 
she  had  resolved  on,  in  failure  of  Gow's  arrest  —  that  of 
denouncing  him,  and  resisting  the  proceeding  of  the  cer 
emony  ?  Could  she  command  her  feelings  sufficiently 
to  do  this,  should  she  not  be  overawed  by  Martin  and 
his  wife  ?  And  even  should  she  make  the  attempt, 
would  her  story  gain  credence,  after  keeping  so  long  si 
lent,  and  suffering  the  affair  to  glide  along,  to  the  very 
hour  of  consummation,  without  making  known  her  situ 
ation  ?  The  more  she  reflected  on  this  project,  the  more 
did  her  resolution  waver.  She  had  a  female  friend  who 
had  not  long  since  married,  and  settled  on  the  road,  a 
few  miles  north  of  Harwood  settlement,  and  her  resolu 
tion  was  soon  formed  to  attempt  to  escape  from  the 


136  MAY    MARTIN, 

house,  and  try  to  reach  the  residence  of  her  frierid  that 
night.  Scarce  had  she  formed  this  resolution,  before, 
casting  her  eye  up  the  road,  she  beheld,  in  the  distance,  a 
man  approaching  on  horseback,  whom,  from  the  color  of 
his  horse,  she  instantly  recognized  to  be  the  minister,  who 
had  been  engaged  to  officiate  on  the  occasion.  She  had 
seen  him  pass  the  preceding  Saturday  on  his  way  to  a  town 
a  short  distance  to  the  north,  where,  at  stated  intervals,  he 
preached ;  and  she  but  too  well  knew  the  reason  of  his 
happening  along  on  his  return  at  this  hour.  Now,  aware 
that  not  another  moment  was  to  be  lost,  she  seized  a  com 
mon  bonnet,  and  cautiously  letting  herself  down  from  the 
window,  which  opened  into  the  garden,  glided  through 
the  shrubbery,  swift  and  noiseless  as  the  wild  bird  steal 
ing  to  its  covert,  slipped  through  the  fence,  and  entering 
a  field  of  tall  grain  immediately  beyond,  escaped  un 
seen  towards  the  woods,  in  a  northerly  direction.  On 
reaching  the  woods,  she  paused  a  moment  to  glance  at 
the  clouds,  which  were  now  beginning  to  heave  up  over 
the  tops  of  the  mountains,  in  heavy  masses,  accompanied 
at  short  intervals  by  the  low,  short,  and  scarcely  percepti 
ble  rumbling  of  the  distant  thunder,  affording  her  indu 
bitable  evidence  of  the  approaching  storm.  But  she  hes 
itated  not.  What  to  her  feelings  were  the  terrors  of  a 
thunder  storm  to  the  scene  she  had  just  left,  in  which, 
but  for  her  flight,  she  must  soon  be  the  principal  actor  ? 
Pausing  no  longer  than  to  decide  how  she  should  best 
shape  her  course  to  avoid  all  observation  from  the  road 
and  the  open  grounds  on  the  right,  and  prevent  becoming 
entangled  or  bewildered  in  the  depths  of  the  wilderness 
on  the  left,  she  now  plunged  into  the  woods,  and  keeping 
just  within  their  borders,  pressed  on  with  rapid  steps 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  137 

towards  her  destination.  She  had  not  proceeded  far,  how 
ever,  before  the  occasional  rustling  of  bushes  and  the 
crackling  of  sticks  and  brush,  breaking  under  the  tread 
at  some  distance  on  her  left,  apprised  her  of  the  pres 
ence  of  some  one,  apparently  endeavoring  to  keep  pace 
with  her,  for  the  purpose  of  dogging  her  steps.  And 
soon  catching  a  glimpse  of  his  person,  in  a  glance  over 
her  shoulder,  as,  with  quickened  steps,  she  pursued  her 
way,  the  alarming  truth  at  once  flashed  across  her  mind. 
It  was  the  accomplice  of  Gow,  the  old  man  she  had  seen 
in  the  cavern,  who  was  following  her.  Calculating  to 
leave  the  valley  that  night,  he  had  packed  up,  and  having 
come  down  from  his  retreat,  was  awaiting  at  a  conven 
ient  stand,  at  the  skirt  of  the  woods,  in  plain  sight  of 
Martin's,  a  signal  promised  by  Gow,  as  soon  as  the  knot 
was  fairly  tied,  intending  to  depart  secretly  from  the 
settlement,  the  moment  this  evidence  of  the  completion 
of  their  infamous  work  was  displayed.  And  it  was 
while  standing  here,  concealed  from  the  view  of  others, 
in  a  clump  of  bushes,  and  patiently  watching  for  the 
promised  signal,  that  he  caught  sight  of  May  gliding  into 
the  woods  but  a  short  distance  below  him.  Though  soon 
conjecturing,  from  the  course  she  came,  that  it  could  be 
no  other  than  their  intended  victim,  he  yet  suspected  not, 
at  first,  her  real  object;  and  thinking  she  might  have 
come  to  the  woods  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  some 
favorite  shrub  or  evergreen  to  deck  her  room  for  the  occa 
sion,  he  suffered  her  to  proceed  some  way  before  it  oc 
curred  to  him  that  she  was  actually  escaping  from  their 
net.  Unwilling,  on  account  of  his  own  safety,  to  cause 
any  outcry,  which  he  was  fearful  she  might  raise,  if  he 
made  any  attempt  to  detain  her  by  force,  he  determined 
12* 


138  MAY    MARTIN, 

to  get  ahead  of  her,  and  endeavor  to  frighten  her  back 
to  the  house.  But  in  this  he  soon  found  himself  baffled  ; 
for  instead  of  being  able  to  get  before  her,  he  found  much 
difficulty,  so  rapid  was  her  flight,  even  in  overtaking  and 
keeping  her  in  sight.  Resolving,  however,  not  to  lose  the 
advantage  of  this,  that  he  might  dog  her  to  the  house 
where  she  fled  for  shelter  for  the  night,  and  return  and 
apprise  his  accomplice  of  the  place  of  her  refuge,  he  re 
doubled  his  exertions,  and  succeeded  barely  in  accom 
plishing  this  part  of  his  purpose,  as  far  as  the  pursuer  and 
pursued  were  permitted  to  proceed. 

But  to  return  to  the  wretched  fugitive.  Having  been 
nurtured  among  the  mountains,  and  accustomed,  from 
infancy,  to  exercise  in  their  invigorating  breezes,  her  nat 
urally  active  limbs  had  acquired  an  elasticity,  and  a  ca 
pability  of  enduring  fatigue,  which  are  unknown  to  fe 
males  of  older  countries,  and  which  came  in  good  stead 
on  the  present  occasion.  Fleeing  like  some  frighted 
nymph  of  heathen  fable  before  a  pursuing  demon,  her 
lips  parted,  her  hands  thrust  eagerly  forward,  and  her 
loosened  and  disordered  tresses  streaming  wildly  behind 
her,  she  bounded  along  over  log,  rock,  and  rivulet,  with  a 
rapidity  which  fear  only  could  have  incited,  and  which 
the  delirious  energy  of  desperation  alone  could  have  sus 
tained  ;  while  every  glance,  which  at  times  she  hastily 
threw  back  over  her  shoulder,  at  the  fearful  visage  forever 
peering  through  the  bushes,  in  hot  pursuit,  behind  her, 
added  a  fresh  impulse  to  her  exertions  and  quickened  her 
speed.  The  thunder  now  burst  in  terrific  peals  over  her 
head  —  tall  trees  were  uprooted  and  hurled  to  the  earth 
by  the  furious  blast,  or,  shivered,  in  the  fiercely  quivering 
blaze  of  the  lightning,  fell  in  fragments  around  her;  yet 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  139 

she  paused  not  in  her  course.  The  rain  poured  in  a  del 
uging  torrent  over  her  drenched  person,  yet  she  heeded 
it  not,  but  catching  the  big  drops  in  her  parched  lips,  as 
they  gratefully  beat  over  her  fevered  and  burning  brow, 
she  fled  on — on,  regardless  of  all  exposure,  and  forget 
ful  of  all  danger  but  one. 

Having  now  passed  the  last  house  of  the  settlement, 
she,  just  as  night  and  cloud  were  fast  combining  to 
spread  their  dark  mantle  over  the  earth,  varied  her  course, 
and  struck  obliquely  into  the  road.  Here,  pausing  an 
instant,  in  doubt  whether  to  fly  to  the  nearest  house,  or 
go  on,  in  pursuance  of  her  original  determination,  she 
indistinctly  caught  sight  of  the  form  of  her  pursuer,  who 
had  struck  into  the  road  some  distance  below  her,  and 
thus  cut  off  her  chance  of  return.  Nerving  herself  once 
more  for  the  trial,  she  pressed  on  up  the  road  for  her  first 
destination,  now  about  two  miles  distant,  with  no  other 
means  of  distinguishing  her  way  than  what  the  occasional 
flashes  of  lightning  afforded. 

Although  the  rain  immediately  over  her  head  had  now 
sensibly  abated,  yet  the  deep,  jarring,  and  continuous  roar 
on  the  left,  as  if  from  the  incessant  pouring  of  a  cataract, 
plainly  told  that  the  storm  was  still  spending  its  force 
with  unexampled  fury  on  the  mountains.  And  the  proof 
of  this  soon  became  visible  to  our  heroine,  in  the  rapidly 
increasing  torrents  that  came  rushing  down  the  steep 
acclivities,  overflowing  the  road,  and  threatening,  at  every 
step,  to  put  an  entire  stop  to  her  progress.  Arriving,  at 
length,  at  the  northern  outlet  of  the  valley,  where  the 
mountains  shut  down  so  close  to  the  pond  as  to  leave 
little  more  than  space  for  the  road  to  pass  between  them, 
she  came  abreast  of  one  of  the  mountain  ravines,  where, 


140  MAY    MARTIN, 

at  ordinary  times,  a  small  brook  crossed  the  road.  It  was 
now  swollen  to  a  rushing  river,  before  which  no  human 
strength  could  have  stood  an  instant.  To  attempt  to 
pass  this,  she  saw,  was  but  madness ;  and,  as  she  heard 
the  splashing  footsteps  of  her  pursuer  but  a  short  distance 
behind  her,  despair  now  for  the  first  time  sent  its  chill  to 
her  heart.  But  while  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  dash 
ing  flood,  which  at  every  wave  rose  higher  and  higher, 
hesitating  whether  to  commit  herself  to  the  raging  ele 
ment  or  the  scarcely  less  dreaded  power  of  her  pursuer,  a 
flash  of  lightning  revealed  to  her  sight  a  shelving  rock 
jutting  out  from  the  side  of  the  hill,  a  few  rods  back,  and 
so  aloof  from  the  road,  and  screened  from  it  by  inter 
vening  boughs,  as  to  afford  her,  she  believed,  if  reached 
unseen,  a  good  concealment  from  her  indefatigable  ene 
my,  and  a  safe  retreat  from  the  waters,  which  were  now 
rising  around  her  with  the  most  frightful  rapidity.  Mak 
ing  directly  for  the  hill,  and  scrambling  up  the  slanting 
rocks  at  the  foot,  with  the  expiring  energy  of  despair,  she 
gained  the  place,  and  dropped  down  exhausted  on  the 
spot,  just  as  another  flash  partially  revealed  to  her  sight 
the  form  of  the  old  man,  hurrying  by  and  rushing  up  to 
the  brink  of  the  stream  she  had  left  but  an  instant  before. 
Recoiling  from  the  view  of  the  threatening  and  impas 
sable  torrent,  and  throwing  one  wild  glance  around  him, 
in  which  horror  for  the  supposed  fate  of  his  victim  and 
alarm  for  his  own  safety  seemed  equally  mingled,  he 
hastily  retreated  back  along  the  road.  But  before  he  had 
proceeded  many  rods,  the  gathering  and  pent  waters 
above,  as  if  suddenly  bursting  through  their  opposing 
barriers,  in  a  mighty  torrent,  came  rushing  down  a  cor 
responding  ravine,  beyond  the  ridge  a  little  distance  to 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  141 

the  south,  and  wholly  cut  off  his  retreat.  Meanwhile,  the 
noise  on  the  mountain  every  moment  grew  louder  and 
louder.  The  deep,  distant  roar,  as  of  pouring  torrents, 
which  had  for  some  time  been  heard,  now  became  min 
gled  with  the  tumultuous  crashing  of  falling  forests,  ,the 
hissing,  rushing  sounds  of  disturbed  and  changing  vol 
umes  of  water,  and  the  slow,  heavy,  intermitting  jar  of 
vast  bodies  of  ponderous  matter  just  beginning  to  move. 
Nearer  and  nearer  it  came ;  and  now  the  earth  trembled 
and  shook  seemingly  to  its  lowest  foundations,  as,  with 
gathering  impetus,  the  mighty  mass  came  rolling  down 
the  steep  sides  of  the  mountain  directly  towards  the  spot 
where  the  terror-struck  girl  lay  concealed  ;  and  her  no  less 
affrighted  pursuer,  a  few  yards  below,  was  wildly  running 
to  and  fro,  vainly  looking  for  some  chance  to  escape. 
Anon  it  became  rapidly  light,  as  from  some  steady  kin 
dling  blaze  above,  which,  growing  more  luminous  and 
dazzling  every  instant,  soon  gleaming  fiercely  along  the 
surface  of  the  bubbling  pond,  and  flashing  broad  and 
bright  over  the  opposite  mountains,  lit  up  the  whoje 
amphitheatre  of  encircling  hills  from  the  darkness  of 
midnight  to  the  splendors  of  noonday.*  Starting  upon 

*  Although  it  may  appear  singular,  that  a  body,  in  which  water 
composes  so  great  a  proportion,  should  emit  fire  enough  to  be  visible 
at  any  distance,  yet  it  has  been  established  by"  repeated  observation 
that  a  vivid  and  continual  flashing  of  light  is  produced  by  the  concus 
sion  of  the  rocks,  while  the  avalanche  is  in  motion. 

This  terrific  phenomenon,  the  mountain  avalanche,  has  been  found 
to  occur,  it  is  believed,  only  under  the  following  combination  of  cir 
cumstances  :  where  the  ascent  forms  an  inclination  of  over  thirty 
degrees,  and  the  soil  or  surface  rests  on  a  substratum  of  clay,  or  a 
continuous  body  of  smooth  rocks,  lying  parallel  with  the  outer  incli 
nation,  in  which  the  roots  of  the  trees  do  not  enter,  or  gain  but  a  feeble 


142 


MAY    MARTIN, 


her  feet,  May  looked  around  her  in  mute  consternation. 
Nearer  and  more  deafening  rose  the  tremendous  din 
above  her  —  roaring,  crashing,  grinding  along,  with  the 
noise  of  ten  thousand  thunders,  and  with  concussions 
that  made  the  solid  earth  heave  and  bound  beneath  her 
feet;  down,  down  came  the  avalanche  with  fearful  veloci 
ty  towards  her.  In  another  instant,  the  mighty  mass, 

hold.  The  immediate  cause  of  the  avalanche  is  of  very  easy  expla 
nation.  The  bursting-  of  a  cloud  (or,  to  speak  more  philosophically, 
the  meeting  of  two  deeply-charged  clouds,  by  which  an  immense  depth 
of  vapor  from  the  earth  upwards  is  produced,  and  kept  suspended,  by 
the  equilibrium  thus  formed  in  the  opposing-  currents  of  wind,  over  one 
spot,  till  the  mass  has  emptied  itself)  —  the  bursting  or  emptying  of  a 
cloud  over  the  top  of  a  mountain  occurs,  the  loose  surface  becomes 
perfectly  filled  with  water,  under-currents  down  the  impervious  clayey 
or  rocky  bed  beneath  begin  to  be  formed,  and  soon  the  whole  superin 
cumbent  mass  of  loose  stones  and  trees,  whose  roots  are  thus  detached, 
starts  downward,  slowly  at  first,  but  soon,  by  the  gathering  impetus, 
with  a  speed  and  force  of  which  the  imagination  can  scarcely  conceive. 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  this  kind  ever  known  in 
the  Green  Mountains  occurred  on  the  eastern  side  of  Lincoln  Mountain, 
in  Addison  county,  about  twenty  years  ago.  There  a  belt  of  heavy 
forest,  nearly  a  mile  in  length  and  a  furlong  in  width,  was  precipitated 
down  the  mountain  with  such  amazing  force  as  to  drive  the  whole  mass 
almost  another  mile  through  a  slightly-inclined  gorge,  or  valley,  that 
shot  out  from  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  The  noise  and  trembling  of 
the  earth,  heard  and  felt  for  many  miles  around,  on  this  occasion,  was 
at  the  time  mistaken  by  the  startled  inhabitants  for  an  earthquake.  I 
visited  the  spot  in  1826,  seven  or  eight  years  after  the  occurrence,  when 
the  long  line  of  barren  clay  from  the  foot  to  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
looking  like  some  broad  highway  cleanly  cut  through  the  heavy  forest, 
and  the  impassable  mass  of  mingled  earth,  rock,  and  trees,  lying  in 
every  position  —  twisted  off,  beat  up  like  brooms,  broken  and  jammed 
together — in  the  gorge  below,  most  strikingly  marked  the  place  of  this 
tremendous  exhibition  of  nature. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS. 


143 


dividing  on  the  solid  ledge  beneath  which  she  stood, 
began  to  rush  by  her  on  either  side  in  two  vast,  high, 
turbid  volumes,  revolving  monstrous  stones  and  hurling 
trees  over  trees  in  their  progress,  and,  like  some  huge 
launch,  driving  with  amazing  force  into  the  receding 
waters  of  the  pond ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  forest 
around  arid  above  her  waved,  shook,  toppled,  and  fell  in 
an  awful  crash  on  the  rocks  over  her  head.  She  saw, 
she  heard  no  more,  but  sank  stunned  and  senseless  on 
the  ground. 


144  MAY    MARTIN, 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

i 

"  Thus  let  the  smile  or  frown  of  Heaven 
To  virtue  or  to  vice  be  given." 

ONCE  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  change  we  the 
scene  of  our  eventful  story  to  the  place  where  we  com 
menced  it,  at  the  dwelling  of  the  heartless,  despicable, 
but  now  detected  and  self-abased  Martin.  Need  we  at 
tempt  to  describe  the  disappointment  of  the  excited  and 
enraged  lover,  as,  bursting  into  the  house  at  the  head  of 
his  companions  just  as  the  tempest  struck  it,  he  made 
the  discovery,  which  the  inmates  had  made  but  a  mo 
ment  before,  that  his  affianced  was  missing? — the  ut 
ter  discomfiture  of  Martin  and  his  congenial  helpmate 
at  the  unlooked-for  interruption  of  their  plans,  and  de 
tection,  at  the  very  eve  of  consummating  their  base 
ness  ?  —  the  consternation  of  Gow  at  being  seized  and 
securely  ironed  on  the  spot?  —  the  bitter  upbraidings 
heaped  by  Ashley  on  the  heads  of  the  guilty  and  shrink 
ing  pair  for  their  treachery  towards  him,  and  their  op 
pressive  cruelty  and  wickedness  towards  the  unpro 
tected  child  of  their  adoption  ?  —  the  feverish  impatience 
with  which  he  paced  the  floor,  till  the  storm  should 
abate,  that  he  might  fly  to  the  neighbors,  to  some  of 
whom  it  was  supposed  the  poor  girl  had  fled  for  refuge  ? 
-—the  hot  haste  with  which  he  mounted  his  horse,  the 
first  moment  the  fury  of  the  tempest  would  permit,  and 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  145 

rode  from  house  to  house  in  the  eager  search?  —  the 
blank  dismay  and  agony  of  heart  that  overwhelmed 
him  on  finding  that  no  one  had  seen  her,  and  that  she 
was  sheltered  by  no  house  in  the  settlement  ?  —  the 
prompt  rallying  of  the  startled  inhabitants,  the  dancing 
of  lights  in  every  direction,  as  they  anxiously  contin 
ued  the  search,  in  house  and  barn,  field  and  forest, 
through  the  gloomy  hours  of  that  dreadful  night?  —  the 
consternation  of  the  distracted  lover,  on  coming  to  the 
frightful  ruins  of  the  avalanche,  and  the  maddening 
thought  that  she  might  be  buried  beneath  them  —  his 
hasty  return  and  procurement  of  a  boat  to  pass  round 
the  insurmountable  mass,  that  blocked  up  the  road  — 
and  the  trembling  eagerness  with  which  he,  with  such 
assistance  as  chance  threw  in  his  way,  sped  back  to  re 
new  the  search  with  avowed  determination  of  know 
ing  no  rest  till  his  hopes  and  exertions  were  crowned 
with  success,  or  his  worst  fears  realized  ?  Need  we  at 
tempt  to  detail  all  this  ?  What  reader  of  imagination 
so  dull  that  he  cannot  better  fill  up  for  himself  a  picture 
so  difficult  for  pen  to  delineate  ? 

It  was  daylight,  and  a  beautiful  and  balmy  morning. 
The  scene  from  Martin's  presented  in  every  direction  a 
gloomy  picture  of  the  desolating  ravages  of  the  tem 
pest.  Fields  of  grass  and  grain  lay  prostrate  with  the 
earth.  Fences  on  every  side  had  been  swept  away  by 
the  unexampled  rise  of  the  mountain  rivulets,  and  their 
scattered  materials  lay  strewn,  at  random,  over  the 
blackened  herbage  of  every  vale.  Each  solitary  tree 
of  the  open  grounds,  left  for  shade  or  ornament,  had 
been  hurled  to  the  earth,  in  the  fury  of  the  blast.  Ami 
many  a  veteran  hemlock  and  princely  pine  of  the  sur- 
13 


146  MAY    MARTIN, 

rounding  forests,  whose  giant  forms  had  withstood  the 
power  of  the  elements  for  centuries,  and  whose  tower 
ing  tops  had  served  from  time  immemorial  as  the  famil 
iar  guides  of  the  woodsmen  starting  for  their  homes, 
had  been  rent  by  the  lightning  or  overthrown  by  the 
winds,  and  were  no  longer  to  be  seen  ;  while  far  in  the 
blue  distance  at  the  north,  a  broad  whitish  belt  marked 
the  fearful  track  of  the  avalanche  down  the  mountain. 
Within  the  walls  of  the  house  was  assembled  a  group 
of  persons  as  dissimilar  in  character  and  feelings  as 
the  singular  causes  that  brought  them  together.  On  a 
low  bench  in  jone  corner  of  the  room,  sullen  and  silent, 
sat  Gow,  heavily  ironed  and  closely  guarded  by  one  of 
the  stout,  athletic  assistants  of  the  sheriff.  In  another 
place  sat  Martin  and  his  wife,  with  their  eyes  cast  de 
jectedly  on  the  floor,  listening  meekly,  and  with  deep 
abasement  of  demeanor,  to  the  remarks  of  the  clergy 
man,  who,  having  remained  through  the  night,  was  now 
mildly  setting  before  them  not  only  the  wrong  of  the 
deception  which  had  been  practised  upon  him,  in  con 
cealing  the  circumstances  of  the  projected  marriage,  in 
the  advancement  of  which  he  had  been  so  unwittingly 
enlisted,  but  the  great  heinousness  of  using  such  arts  to 
compel  a  poor,  unfriended  orphan,  under  their  protec 
tion,  to  violate  the  vows  to  her  lover,  which  they  them 
selves  had  sanctioned,  and  wed  a  man  so  abhorrent  to 
her  feelings,,  that  she  had  braved,  and,  but  too  probably, 
met  death,  in  trying  to  avoid  the  fate.  Leaning  pen 
sively  against  the  window  stood  the  handsome  stran 
ger,  who  yesterday  joined  Ashley  on  the  road,  and  who, 
though  no  one  yet  knew  his  business,  or  even  name,  had, 
through  the  whole  night,  taken  a  deep  and  active  inter- 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  147 

est  in  the  search  for  the  lost  favorite  of  the  valley  —  now 
listening  to  the  words  of  the  minister,  addressed  to  the 
humble  dupes  of  the  man  in  irons  before  them,  and  now 
casting  wistful  and  uneasy  glances  through  the  window, 
towards  the  north,  in  which  direction  he,  as  well  as  all 
the  rest  of  the  present  company,  supposed  the  search  was 
still  going  on. 

Presently  a  distant  hum,  as  of  the  mingled  voices  of 
many  persons  approaching  with  rapid  steps  down  the 
road,  reached  the  ears  of  the  company.  It  came  nearer 
and  nearer ;  and  all,  except  Gow  and  his  guard,  now 
hastily  rose  and  went  out  into  the  yard.  A  band  of  all 
ages  and  sexes,  scattered  confusedly  along  the  road,  ac 
cording  to  their  different  powers  and  disposition  for  speed, 
were  flying  towards  the  house,  headed  by  Shrewd  David, 
many  rods  in  advance,  exultingly  shouting  with  all  his 
might,  "May  is  found!  May  is  found!  They  are  com 
ing  !  they  are  coming !  "  And  the  little  fellow,  now  reach 
ing  the  anxiously  expectant  group  at  the  door,  and  point 
ing  to  two  approaching  wagons  in  the  distance,  fell  down 
in  utter  exhaustion,  and  gave  vent  to  his  overflowing 
emotions  in  a  burst  of  tears. 

"  Thank  God  ! "  exclaimed  the  stranger,  the  first  to 
find  utterance  in  the  general  emotion  that  seemed  to 
spread  sympathetically  from  the  boy  to  every  person 
present. 

"Amen  —  and  to  Him  be  all  the  praise!"  responded 
the  minister,  in  the  deep  and  reverential  tones  of  his 
office. 

But  here  let  us  recur  a  moment  to  explain  the  manner 
of  the  preservation  and  recovery  of  our  heroine,  whom 
we  left  overwhelmed  by  the  ruins  of  the  avalanche. 


148  MAY    MARTIN, 

After  receiving  the  shock  that  prostrated  her,  senseless, 
to  the  earth,  she  passed,  without  recovering  her  conscious 
ness,  into  a  profound  slumber,  which  immediately  stole 
over  her  as  her  overstrained  faculties  ceased  their  exer 
tion.  Here  she  thus  lay  till  the  great  struggle  of  the  ele 
ments  was  over ;  when  she  at  length  slowly  awoke,  and 
endeavored  to  recall  her  scattered  senses.  The  dreadful 
tumult  that  last  assailed  her  conscious  ear  was  now 
hushed ;  and  all  was  still,  save  the  steady  rushing  of  the 
diminished  waters.  The  stars  shone  out  brightly,  afford 
ing  her  a  dim  view  of  the  wild  scene  of  havoc  and  deso 
lation  which  the  fearful  power  of  the  avalanche  had 
spread  around  her.  The  trunk  of  a  large  tree  lay  across 
the  rocks  directly  over,  and  within  a  few  feet  of,  her  per 
son.  It  was  the  wind  and  concussion  of  this,  striking  so 
near  her  head,  that  had  overthrown  and  astounded  her. 
She  saw  how  narrowly  she  had  escaped  death,  and  she 
devoutly  thanked  Heaven  for  the  preservation.  A  faint 
groan,  issuing  from  the  ruins  a  short  distance  below  her, 
now  reached  her  ear.  It  was  from  the  poor  wretch  who 
had  caused  her  such  trials,  here  lying  mortally  wounded 
beneath  the  top  of  the  same  tree  that  had  spared  his 
intended  victim.  But  before  she  had  time  to  indulge  in 
the  mingled  emotions  which  this  was  beginning  to  cre 
ate,  she  heard  voices  approaching.  Presently,  lights  ap 
peared  upon  the  pond,  and  a  boat,  containing  several 
men,  shot  along  the  shore  directly  against  the  spot  where 
she  lay.  It  now  paused  in  its  course,  and  some  one 
called  loudly  her  name.  Did  she  hear  rightly  ?  No,  it 
must  be  an  illusion  ;  and  yet,  why  did  the  tones  of  that 
voice  thus  thrill  through  every  fibre  of  her  frame  ?  She 
shrieked  in  reply,  and  tried  to  move ;  but  her  benumbed, 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  149 

worn,  and  lacerated  limbs  refused  to  perform  their  office. 
The  call  was  repeated —  "  May  !  May ! "  It  was  enough, 
and  the  name  of  Ashley  escaped,  in  broken  utterance, 
from  the  lips  of  the  transported  maiden.  The  men 
sprang  ashore,  and  in  another  moment  she  was  clasped 
in  the  mute  embrace  of  her  lover,  who,  in  an  ecstasy  of 
exulting  happiness,  bore  off  the  living  prize,  leaving  the 
less  grateful  task  of  removing  the  dying  criminal  to  his 
companions. 

The  foremost  of  the  two  wagons,  before  mentioned 
as  approaching,  having  travelled  faster,  and  being  con 
siderably  in  the  advance  of  the  other,  had  by  this  time 
arrived  within  a  short  distance  of  the  assembled  com 
pany,  now  composed  of  nearly  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  settlement,  awaiting  its  arrival  in  breathless  silence. 
And  now  it  turned  into  the  yard.  It  contained  Ashley 
and  the  recovered  fair  one.  She  looked  worn  and  much 
paler  than  usual ;  otherwise  calm,  though  thoughtful. 
Her  lover  lifted  her  from  the  carriage,  and  advancing 
with  her  at  his  side,  he  would  have  spoken;  but  his 
lips  began  to  quiver,  and,  waving  his  hand,  he  mutely 
presented  her  to  the  company.  The  females  rushed 
around,  and  by  turns  convulsively  clasped  her  in  their 
arms,  or  buried  their  faces  in  her  bosom,  with  no  other 
utterance  than  that  which  their  violent  sobbing,  as  they 
held  her  in  the  mute  embrace,  or  turned  away  to  hide 
their  streaming  tears,  afforded.  The  men  stood  by  and 
looked  on  with  less  boisterous  manifestations  of  emo 
tion,  though  the  big  tears  were  seen  starting  in  many 
an  eye,  and  coursing  down  many  a  rnanly  cheek,  as 
they  silently  gazed  on  the  moving  scene  before  them. 
While  this  scene  was  acting,  the  other  wagon,  driven 
13* 


150  MAY    MARTIN, 

by  Mundle,  and  containing  the  wounded  man,  stretched 
on  a  bed  in  the  bottom  of  the  vehicle,  the  latter  person 
having  been  brought  here  by  his  own  earnest  request, 
now  slowly  passed  into  the  yard. 

"  Bring  out  a  few  pillows,  or  something  to  make  a 
bolster,"  said  the  sheriff,  in  the  tones  of  one  accustomed 
to  command :  "  this  poor  wretch  is  very  evidently  near  his 
last  breath,  and  has  something  to  say  before  he  leaves 
the  world  forever.  Here !  help  to  lift  him  out,  bed  and 
all.  And  bring  out  likewise  the  prisoner,  Gow,  that  they 
may  be  confronted  together." 

These  orders  being  promptly  attended  to,  the  wounded 
man  was  carefully  lifted  from  the  wagon  and  placed  in 
an  easy  position  in  the  open  air.  He  first  pressed  his 
hand  to  his  forehead,  and  then,  opening  his  eyes  and  look 
ing  slowly  around  on  the  countenances  of  those  standing 
immediately  about  him,  said,  faintly, — 

"  I  heard  them  say  there  was  a  stranger  here,  who  had 
inquired  for  May  Martin,  and  seemed  to  take  an  interest 
in  her  fate.  Is  he  now  present  ?  " 

The  gentleman  thus  inquired  for,  who  had  hitherto 
stood  back,  a  silent  though  attentive  spectator  of  all  that 
had  passed,  now  stepped  forward. 

"  It  is  so,"  said  the  former,  after  letting  his  languid  eye 
rest  a  moment  on  the  face  of  the  stranger,  "  it  is  even  as 
I  suspected  —  Mr.  Harwood  —  Frank  Harwood  ! " 

"  You  call  my  name,  sir,"  replied  the  stranger,  closely 
scanning  the  pale  and  livid  features  of  the  man  lying 
before  him.  "  You  call  me  rightly ;  but  I  do  not  now 
recollect  where,  or  when,  I  may  have  met  with  you." 

"  Do  you  not  remember  your  father's  former  agent  for 
this  settlement,  and  the  adviser  and  assistant  of  your 
youthful  errors  ?  " 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  151 

"  Colvin  ! "  exclaimed  the  stranger,  in  surprise,  "  Col- 
vin  !  —  can  this  be  Richard  Colvin  ?  " 

At  the  mention  of  that  name,  all  the  oldest  settlers 
stepped  up,  and,  bending  over  the  man,  looked  intently 
in  his  face. 

"  It  is,"  they  presently  exclaimed,  "  it  is  Colvin  ;  but  O, 
how  changed ! " 

"  You  say  truly,"  rejoined  the  older  man,  after  a  pause, 
in  which  he  seemed  to  be  collecting  his  failing  energies 
to  speak  further  —  "  you  say  truly  of  the  wretched  object 
before  you  —  changed  indeed,  but  less  changed  in  person 
than  in  character.  Franklin  Harwood,  in  May  Martin, 
the  girl  before  you,  behold  your  own  daughter!" 

"  My  father ! "  uttered  May,  in  surprise. 

"  Her  father!"  exclaimed  many  voices  at  once. 

"  Her  father  ;  Frank  Harwood,  only  son  of  the  old  pro 
prietor,  her  father  ? "  almost  shrieked  both  Martin  and 
his  wife  at  the  same  instant. 

"  Can  this  gentleman  be  my  father  ? "  again  timidly 
asked  May,  looking  inquiringly  to  Ashley. 

"  It  is  the  gentleman  of  whom  I  spoke,  as  we  came 
along.  May,"  replied  the  latter.  "  I  thought —  I  half  sus 
pected  something  like  this.  And  why  not  of  so  near  a 
tie?  See!"  he  continued  with  animation,  waving  his 
hand  to  the  spectators,  and  pointing  from  the  features  of 
the  father  to  those  of  the  daughter — "see!  did  ever 
mirror,  that  mellows  while  it  truly  reflects  the  landscape 
—  did  ever  mirror  throw  back  the  softened  picture  more 
faithfully?" 

"  It  is  even  so,"  said  Harwood,  now  stepping  up  and 
taking  the  hand  of  the  unresisting  and  pleased  girl. 
"  It  is  even  so — it  can  be  no  other  than  the  too  long 


152  MAY    MARTIN, 

neglected  child  of  a  much  injured,  though  lawfully  wed 
ded  mother,  who,  I  trust,  at  this  auspicious  moment  is 
looking  down  from  her  place  in  heaven,  to  forgive  and 
bless,  in  the  pleased  witnessing  of  this  late  union  of 
father  and  daughter.  And  if  she,"  he  continued  with  an 
affectionate  smile,  "  if  she  of  heaven  can  do  this,  what 
says  my  fair  child  of  earth  ? " 

A  sweet  smile  broke  through  the  starting  tears  of  the 
daughter  in  reply. 

"  Let  me  proceed,"  said  the  wounded  penitent;  "  I  know 
—  I  feel  that  I  have  but  a  few  moments  left  me ;  and  I 
would  improve  them  in  undoing,  as  far  as  I  can,  the 
mischief  I  have  done  —  I  now  grieve  to  say,  deliberately 
done.  You,  men  and  owners,  as  you  have  thought  your 
selves,  of  this  settlement,  you  more  than  others,  in 
my  dark  career  of  crime,  have  I  injured.  Under  pre 
tended  ownership  of  this  valley,  I  gave  you  false  and 
worthless  titles  to  the  lands  which  you  now  occupy, 
and  which,  till  within  a  few  months,  belonged  to  this 
gentleman's  father,  who,  having  become  apprised  of  his 
son's  former  clandestine  marriage,  and  a  living  offspring 
somewhere  in  Vermont,  bequeathed  them  all  before  his 
death,  as  I  accidentally  learnt,  to  this  abused  and  per 
secuted  girl.  Would  to  Heaven  I  had  remained  ignorant 
of  the  fact ;  for  it  led  to  my  second  offence  against  you. 
I  was  not  content  with  having  once  defrauded  you  out  of 
the  price  of  your  farms,  and  with  having  proved  treacher 
ous  to  my  patron,  to  whom  I  represented  these  lands  to 
be  so  worthless,  that  he  on  this  account,  and  owing  to 
family  troubles  and  growing  infirmities,  never  afterwards 
inquired  about  them,  or  employed  others  to  look  them  up ; 
I  was  not  content  \vith  this  double  fraud ;  so  I  had  laid 


OR   THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  153 

a  second  plan  to  rob  you  of  all  these  farms  at  a  blow,  or 
make  you  pay  for  them  again,  by  getting  them  into  the 
possession  of  my  associate  and  young  pupil  in  crime, 
yon  prisoner,  by  means  of  cheating  the  unconscious 
owner  into  a  marriage  with  him  before  the  will  should 
become  known  here,  or  she  apprised  of  her  true  parent 
age  and  standing,  and  thus  inflict  another  irreparable 
injury  on  the  worthy  family  of  my  early  patron.  Nor 
was  even  this  enough  for  me  :  I  must  filch  a  large  sum 
of  money  from  a  number  of  you,  in  making  you  pay  my 
associate  and  equal  sharer  in  all  the  booty  gained,  or  to 
be  gained  by  our  wicked  plots,  for  his  pretended  skill  in 
helping  you  to  discover  a  fancied  treasure,  for  the  effect 
ing  of  which  I  scrupled  not  to  expose  you  to  the  law, 
by  burying  for  your  finding  a  few  counterfeit  dollars  of 
my  own  make.  And  now,  having  confessed  all,  the  only 
atonement  I  can  offer  for  my  aggravated  injuries  is  in 
declaring  the  innocence  of  the  deluded  men  in  possess 
ing  the  false  coin,  and  in  restoring  the  good  money  taken 
from  them  —  my  share  of  which  you  will  find  in  my 
pocket,  the  rest  about  the  person  of  the  prisoner,  who, 
I  hope,  will  speedily  forget  the  lessons  of  wickedness  I 
have  taught  him,  and  learn  wisdom  from  my  melancholy 
fate.  And  as  to  your  lands,  I  can  only  recommend  you 
to  the  mercy  of  their  now  rightful  owner,  or  Mr.  Harwood, 
her  natural  guardian,  or,"  he  continued,  glancing  at  Ash 
ley  — "  or  him  who,  I  suppose,  is  soon  to  be  her  legal 
protector." 

"  It  is  but  right,"  said  Ashley,  stammering  and  con 
fused  at  the  evident  allusion  of  the  last  speaker,  and 
endeavoring  to  withdraw  his  arm  from  his  fair  partner, 
"it  is  but  right,  but  honorable,  that,  in  this  strangely 


154  MAY    MARTIN, 

altered  aspect  of  affairs,  I  should  relinquish  to  Miss  Har- 
wood,  as  we  must  now  call  her,  all  claims  she  may  have 
given  me  as  May  Martin." 

"But  supposing,"  replied  May,  still  clinging  to  the 
arm  of  her  lover,  with  a  countenance  radiant  with  smiles 
and  blushes,  "  but  supposing  Miss  Harwood  should  not 
choose  to  release  Mr.  Ashley  from  his  engagement  to  May 
Martin  ?  " 

"  At  least,  May,"  rejoined  her  lover,  with  a  starting  tear 
and  grateful  smile  —  "  at  least,  May,  we  have  a  new  con 
sent  to  ask  and  obtain  now." 

"  And  it  will  not  long  be  withheld,"  said  Harwood, 
with  a  gratified  look.  "  Your  manly  conduct  now,  Mr. 
Ashley,  has  confirmed  the  highly  favorable  prepossessions 
I  had  already  conceived  of  your  character ;  and  even 
without  this,  I  know  not  that  I  ever  should  have  at 
tempted  to  sunder  those  whom  God  has  so  evidently 
put  together." 

While  this  tender  scene  was  enacting,  most  of  the 
settlers,  astonished  and  dismayed  at  the  unexpected 
intelligence  they  had  just  heard,  which  had  swept  away 
their  farms  at  a  blow,  had  withdrawn  from  the  spot  in 
silence,  and  were  standing  in  the  background,  with  blank 
and  disconcerted  countenances,  leaving  the  happy  little 
group  of  father,  daughter,  lover,  parson,  sheriff,  and  little 
David  —  the  only  persons  whose  interests  were  not  unfa 
vorably  affected  by  the  development  —  by  themselves, 
indulging  in  the  joyous  emotions  to  which  the  occasion 
gave  rise,  and  the  three  last  named,  especially,  giving 
vent  to  their  feelings  in  pious  ejaculations,  hearty  con 
gratulations,  and  half-suppressed  exclamations  of  un 
bounded  delight,  according  to  their  respective  characters. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  155 

Their  attention  was  now  arrested,  however,  by  a  faint 
groan  from  the  old  man.  They  turned  —  he  had  just 
breathed  his  last.  The  falling  of  some  body,  followed 
by  the  loud  shriek  of  a  female,  within  the  house,  now 
suddenly  struck  on  their  startled  ears.  All  rushed  to  the 
open  door.  Martin  lay  weltering  in  his  blood  on  the 
floor,  with  his  throat  cut  from  ear  to  ear,  and  writhing  in 
the  agonies  of  a  death,  which,  in  a  paroxysm  of  remorse, 
sharne,  and  desperation,  his  own  hand  had  inflicted. 


156  MAY    MARTIN, 


CONCLUSION. 

TEN  years  had  rolled  away,  when,  one  day,  a  meek- 
looking  and  plainly-dressed  stranger,  on  horseback,  was 
seen,  with  a  hesitating  air,  turning  into  the  same  yard 
where  the  closing  scene  of  our  tale  took  place.  A  large, 
two-story  building,  with  corresponding  outhouses,  now 
occupied  the  former  site  of  Martin's  dwelling.  A  sturdy 
young  farmer,  of  perhaps  twenty-five,  was  in  the  now 
improved  and  handsome  yard,  teaching  two  ruddy-faced 
little  boys,  of  the  probable  ages  of  six  and  eight  years, 
how  to  shoot  with  the  bow  and  arrow. 

"  May  I  ask  who  at  present  resides  here  ?  "  timidly 
asked  the  stranger. 

"  Judge  Ashley,"  was  the  free  reply. 

"  And  these  pretty  boys  —  are  they  his?" 

"  They  are,  sir." 

1  "  1  once  knew  something  of  the  people  of  this  valley, 
and  I  trust  I  shall  be  excused  for  making  some  inquiries 
concerning  them.  How  is  Mr.  Ashley  esteemed  in  the 
world?" 

"  Esteemed !  —  humph !  —  the  very  first  man  in  the 
country ! " 

"  And  your  name  —  may  I  ask  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly  —  David  Butler  —  never  ashamed  to  tell 
it  iii  my  life." 

"  And  have  you  not  a  farm  too,  by  this  time,  from 
your  own  earnings  ?  " 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  157 

"  Hardly,  from  my  own  earnings  ;  and  yet  I  have  a  lot 
of  the  finest  wild  land  in  the  settlement ;  and  I'll  tell  you 
how  queerly  I  got  it.  You  know,  that  is,  if  you've  heard 
of  it,  that,  about  ten  years  ago,  there  was  a  sort  of  up 
turning  here,  and  change  of  owners.  Well,  Mrs.  Ashley, 
that  now  is,  God  bless  her  noble  heart!  gave  me  this  lot, 
outright,  for  services  she  fancies  I  did  her  at  the  time  of 
this  fracas.  I  could  tell  you  all  about  it,  but  I  suppose 
you  have  heard  of  the  money-digging  affair,  and  what 
then  happened?" 

"I  have  —  what  happened  at  the  time,  but  not  after. 
What  became  of  the  old  occupants  who  then  lost  their 
farms?" 

"  Why,  Martin,  you  see,  being  the  best  judge  of  what 
he  deserved,  like  a  sensible  man,  cut  his  throat  on  the 
spot ;  and  the  judge  and  his  wife  thought,  considering, 
it  would  be  no  more  than  a  fair  shake  to  take  his  farm, 
after  helping  off  his  sweet  widow.  Two  of  the  money 
diggers  ran  away,  more  scared  than  hurt,  and  their  farms 
were  also  taken  ;  and  as  to  the  rest,  the  judge  let  them 
off  easy,  paying  them  for  their  betterments  *  as  much  as 
their  whole  farms  were  worth,  'twas  said.  Well,  he 
could  afford  to  do  it,  for  all  the  wild  lands  of  the  valley 
fell  to  him ;  besides,  his  father-in-law,  dying  soon  after, 
left  him  all  his  property  —  that  is,  about  half  of  it,  giving 
the  rest  to  the  charities.  And  now,  sir,  seeing  you  have 
rather  a  free  knack  of  asking  questions  yourself,  suppos 
ing  I  ask  you  one.  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

*  This  word,  for  improvements  made  on  lands,  and  frequently  found 
on  the  Vermont  statute  book,  was,  we  believe,  coined  by  the  legisla 
ture  of  that  state,  but  whether  in  a  'egislative  or  literary  capacity  we 
never  understood. 

14 


158  MAY    MARTIN, 

"  Do  you  not  recollect  me  ?  " 

"Why  —  no  —  and  yet  seems  to  me  I've  seen  your 
mortal  phiz,  somewhere." 

"  You  once  had  good  reason  to  remember  me ;  and  I 
wish  I  could  say  with  you,  that  I  have  never  been 
ashamed  of  my  name.  I  am  Gow." 

"  Gow!  Gow!  that  same  Gow  ?  Who  —  o  —  o  —  rah! 
Had  reason  to  remember  you,  did  you  say  ?  to  be  sure 
I  had.  Your  coming  brought  me  that  righteous  lot  of 
land,  which  I  would  be  at  work  on  to-day,  if  the  judge 
would  consent  to  let  me  leave  him.  Yes,  yes,  you  made 
my  fortune,  if  the  devil  did  send  you  ;  but  what  in  all 
nature  has  brought  you  back  again  ?  " 

"Better  motives,  Mr.  Butler,  I  trust,  than  those  which 
once  led  me  here.  Are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ashley  in  the  house  ? 
I  would  see  them  at  the  door  for  one  moment." 

"  Halloo !  halloo  the  house  !  Judge  Ashley  and  lady, 
halloo ! " 

A  middle-aged  gentleman,  with  a  political  newspaper 
in  his  hand,  and  looking  a  little  disturbed  at  being  in 
terrupted  in  his  reading,  hastily  came  to  the  door.  A 
handsome  young  matron,  some  years  younger  than  her 
husband,  with  a  chubby,  black-eyed  infant  in  her  arms, 
made  her  appearance,  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  latter. 

"  What  now,  David  ?  Is  the  house  on  fire,  or  what,  that 
you  make  such  an  outcry  ?  " 

"  Why,  here  is  one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world ! 
Do  you  know  that  gentleman  ?  " 

The  lady  shuddered,  and,  shrinking  back  a  step, 
whispered  something  in  her  husband's  ear. 

"  It  can't  be  !  "  said  the  latter,  a  slight  frown  passing 
over  his  brow. 


OR    THE    MONEY    DIGGERS.  159 

"  My  name  is  Gow,"  said  the  stranger,  riding  up  to  the 
door,  without  offering  to  dismount.  "  You  are  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Ashley,  I  believe.  She,  I  perceive,  knows  me  ;  and 
well  may  she  remember  me  and  my  former  injuries. 
And  for  that  reason  have  I  presumed  to  call  at  your 
door.  I  ask  not  to  enter,  for  I  am  unworthy ;  and  yet, 
for  myself,  perhaps,  I  should  be  thankful  that  I  was  once 
directed  to  this  spot,  for  the  lesson  here  received,  in  the 
awful  death  of  my  associates  in  crime,  and  my  long  im 
prisonment  that  followed,  was  the  means,  I  trust,  of 
plucking  me  as  a  brand  from  the  burning.  For  many 
years  I  have  been  an  unworthy  preacher  of  the  gospel, 
laboring  in  the  far  west.  Returning  once  more,  and  for 
the  last  time,  to  visit  my  native  New  England,  I  have 
come  some  distance  out  of  my  course  to  see  you,  —  to 
perform  a  duty  to  you  and  to  my  own  soul,  —  to  ask 
that  forgiveness  which  my  God,  I  humbly  hope,  has  ex 
tended  to  one  so  utterly  unworthy  of  his  mercies.  Can 
you,  sir,  forgive  all  the  injuries  I  intended  you  ?  " 

"  Freely,"  replied  Ashley,  visibly  touched  at  the  deep 
abasement  of  the  other,  "  freely,  from  my  heart,  most 
freely." 

"  And  you,  dear  lady,  you,  who  have  yet  more  to 
forgive  ?  " 

"  If  you,  sir,"  said  she,  "  have  the  forgiveness  of  God 
and  my  husband,  it  shall  not  long  be  said  that  you  wait 
for  the  forgiveness  of  Mrs.  Ashley  for  an  offence  commit 
ted  against  May  Martin.  You  have  it,  sincerely." 

"  Dismount,  sir,"  said  the  judge ;  "  walk  in  and  dine 
with  us." 

"  Nay,  it  may  not  be,  it  may  not  be,  worthy  people. 
However  we  may  forgive,  or  even  respect,  there  may  yet 


160       MAY  MARTIN,  OR  THE  MONEY  DIGGERS. 

be  associations,  connected  with  individuals,  which  must 
render  their  presence  forever  painful.  It  were  better  that 
I  tarried  not ;  but  ere  I  leave,"  he  continued,  riding  up 
close  to  the  door  step,  on  which  the  couple  now  stood, 
and  extending  his  hands,  "  I  would  take  a  hand  of  each, 
in  token  of  peace,  and  as  the  seal  of  forgiveness." 

His  request  being  complied  with,  he  lifted  his  tearful 
eyes  to  heaven,  and  ejaculated,  in  broken  utterance, — 

"  O  my  Father  above,  who  could  forgive  me,  the  vilest 
of  the  vile,  and  bless  one  so  utterly  sinful  and  lost,  wilt 
thou  bless  and  prosper  these  thy  servants,  —  their  little 
ones,  and  all  that  is  theirs,  —  not  only  in  the  things  of 
this  life,  but  in  that  light  and  love  which  is  here  our  only 
durable  happiness,  and  hereafter  our  heaven  ?  " 

Casting  one  long  and  mournful  look  on  the  happy 
pair,  and  bowing  a  mute  farewell,  he  slowly  rode  away, 
and  was  seen  no  more. 


THE 


GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST 


A  TALE   OF  AVARICE  AND   CRIME  DEFEATED. 


:  Slave  of  the  dark  and  dirty  mine  ! 

What  vanity  has  brought  thee  here  ? 
How  can  we  love  to  see  thee  shine 
So  bright,  whom  oft  we  buy  so  dear ! ' 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  tale  is  founded  on  events  which  ac 
tually  occurred,  and  that,  too,  mostly  within  the  present 
century,  but  which  a  proper  reluctance  to  invade  the 
sanctity  of  family  history  will  forbid  our  further  partic 
ularizing.  Should,  however,  any  of  the  respectable 
descendants  of  one  of  the  two  strangely-contrasted 
brothers  whom  we  have  introduced  discover  —  as  we 
rather  fear  than  hope  they  may  —  the  originals  of  the 
likenesses  we  have  attempted  to  sketch,  we  trust  they 
will  not  deem  the  character  of  the  one  too  severely 
drawn,  or  that  of  the  other  too  highly  flattered. 


THE 


GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST 


CHAPTER    I. 

* 

THE  summer's  sun  was  throwing  his  parting  beams 
over  the  circular  range  of  high,  detached  hills  that  en 
closed  a  small  village  situated  near  the  mouth  of  one  of 
the  Green  Mountain  tributaries  of  the  Connecticut  River. 
Long,  wavy  lines  of  thin,  blue  smoke,  becoming  visible 
in  the  absence  of  the  sun,  lay  stretched,  with  their  deli 
cate  aerial  tracery,  from  hill  to  hill  above  the  shaded 
hamlet,  beneath  which  the  piteous  bleat  of  the  hungry 
calf,  the  lowing  of  the  returning  cow,  the  joyous  shouts 
of  children,  with  other  various  sounds  of  congregated 
life,  rose  loud  and  distinct  in  the  growing  denseness  of 
the  evening  air,  and  mingled  with  the  sharp,  peeping  cries 
of  the  nighthawk  loftily  careering  in  the  expanse  above, 
the  low,  sweet  trill  of  the  retiring  woodbird,  and  the  clear, 
hurried  notes  of  the  whippoorwill,  now  beginning  to 
burst  from  the  woody  sides  of  the  surrounding  heights. 
The  field  laborers  were  seen,  with  shouldered  implements, 
leisurely  coming  in  from  the  adjoining  meadows,  me 
chanics  and  other  men  of  business  leaving  their  shops, 
and  all  quitting  their  various  avocations  for  the  day,  and 
quietly  taking  their  different  ways  to  their  respective 
abodes. 


166  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

Among  these  there  was  one  personage,  a  man  of  about 
fifty,  on  whom,  as  he  was  seen  passing  on  horseback  up 
a  lane  to  his  house  —  a  large,  ancient-looking  building, 
standing  aloof  from  all  others  —  many  an  eye  was  turned 
with  anxious  or  envious  glances,  for  his  movements  more 
or  less  involved  the  interests  of  a  great  portion  of  this 
little  community.  He  was  the  rich  man  of  the  village. 
But  it  should  have  been  enough  for  those  inclined  to 
envy  Jude  Hosmer  his  wealth,  and  secretly  repine  that 
they  could  not  change  situations  with  him  —  it  should 
have  been  enough  to  cure  the  foolish  wish,  in  this  as  in 
a  thousand  instances  of  the  kind,  to  have  scanned  for  a 
moment  but  his  outward  appearance,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  unknown  elements  of  misery  within  —  to  have  noted 
his  wasted  frame,  his  head,  prematurely  gray,  dropped  in 
deep  study,  his  thin,  sharp  features  combining  in  an 
expression  of  countenance,  in  which  keen  anxiety,  in 
tense,  corroding  thought,  and  eager,  grasping  desire,  were 
stamped  on  every  lineament  and  betrayed  in  every  glance, 
the  whole  unrelieved  by  a  single  warming  touch  which 
spoke  of  sympathy,  or  a  single  relaxing  smile  that  beto 
kened  inward  happiness. 

We  have  termed  him  the  rich  man  of  the  village,  for 
he  had  been  so  reputed  ever  since  the  death  of  his  broth 
er,  who  had  been  dead  about  ten  years,  and  who  was 
known  to  be  his  full  equal  in  wealth.  Indeed,  he  and 
that  brother,  Colonel  James  Hosmer,  were  the  principal 
founders  of  the  village,  having  come  here  nearly  thirty 
years  before,  purchased  the  fine  water  privilege  the  stream 
here  furnished,  and  the  valuable  tract  of  meadow  land 
contiguous,  built  mills,  engaged  largely,  at  first,  in  the 
lumbering  business,  and  finally  in  merchandise;  one,  as 


THE    GrUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  167 

was  agreed  between  them,  keeping  a  store  for  groceries 
and  hardware,  and  the  other  a  dry  goods'  store.  And 
they  both,  in  the  course  of  about  twenty  years,  amassed 
what  are  considered  in  the  country  handsome  fortunes. 
But  their  fortunes  were  made  by  means  as  different  as 
their  characters,  which,  excepting  their  common  traits, 
enterprise  and  industry,  were  as  opposite  as  light  and 
darkness.  Jude,  the  elder,  the  person  whom  we  have 
introduced,  was  cold,  selfish,  and  to  the  last  degree  grasp 
ing  ;  while  James  was  warm-hearted,  generous,  and  scru 
pulously  honest.  Jude  never  gave  any  thing  for  any 
purpose,  had  confidence  in  none,  trusted  no  one  without 
security,  and  knew  no  mercy  in  the  collection  of  his 
debts.  James,  on  the  contrary,  was  public  spirited,  con 
fiding,  trusted  largely,  and  very  rarely  sued  any  body, 
And  yet  Jude,  with  all  his  parsimony,  caution,  and  exac 
tion,  found  it  impossible  to  advance  in  wealth  faster  than 
his  brother,  who,  against  all  the  predictions  of  the  other, 
scarcely  ever  had  the  confidence  he  reposed  in  individuals 
abused.  People  would  make  extra  exertions  to  pay  one 
who  had  used  them  so  fairly  and  kindly;  and  failing 
debtors  would  come  secretly  and  first  secure  him,  leaving 
Old  Jude,  as  he  was  called,  to  pounce  upon  the  remnant 
of  their  property  by  legal  process.  In  short,  he  prospered 
wonderfully,  and  in  his  noble  and  fortunate  career  strik 
ingly  exemplified  the  trite  but  golden  maxim,  "  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy." 

Yes,  honesty  is,  in  truth,  the  best  and  only  safe  policy, 
even  in  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  Far  less  tact  and 
talent  are  necessary  to  insure  riches  with  honesty  than 
success  with  knavery.  And  we  have  often  wondered 
how  our  young  men  of  business,  when  they  cast  about 


168  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

them  among  the  men  of  millions,  the  Lawrences  and 
Astors  of  the  land,  all  noted  for  undeviating  honesty,  and 
then  look  at  the  Rathbuns,  or  hundreds  of  others,  who 
have  succeeded,  perhaps,  to  considerable  extent,  without 
that  great  virtue,  but  who,  with  keener  foresight  and 
greater  capabilities  than  the  former,  it  may  be,  have  failed 
to  attain  a  tithe  of  their  wealth  — we  have  wondered  how 
our  young  men  could  ever  shut  their  eyes  to  the  fact 
that,  though  trickery  and  unfair  dealing  may  flourish  a 
while,  yet  no  great  and  permanent  wealth  can  be  ob 
tained  by  dishonest  and  unfair  courses  —  wondered  how 
they  can  avoid  seeing,  that,  if  the  latter  class  ever  gain 
success  by  dishonest  ingenuity  and  overreaching,  their 
success,  with  the  same  capacities,  would  have  been 
doubled  had  they  pursued  a  course  of  upright  integrity, 
which  alone  can  long  secure  that  general  confidence 
indispensable  to  the  acquisition  of  extensive  wealth.  All 
young  men  of  any  observation  must  see  and  acknowledge 
a  fact  so  often  and  fully  demonstrated  in  the  business 
community  around  them.  And  this,  we  should  think, 
would  be  sufficient,  if  no  worthier  motive  actuated  them, 
to  induce  all,  however  inclined,  to  adopt,  at  their  outset 
in  life,  the  rigid  rule,  that  exact  honesty  in  dealing  with 
all  classes,  whatever  slight  advantages  may  for  the  time 
be  lost,  be  always  religiously  maintained. 

At  length,  Colonel  Hosmer,  to  the  sincere  grief  of  all 
classes,  was  taken  away  by  an  acute  disease,  leaving  a 
widow  and  an  only  child,  a  daughter  of  eight  or  nine 
years  of  age,  to  inherit  his  property.  Jude  Hosmer  be 
came  administrator  on  his  brother's  estate,  and  guardian 
of  his  child,  on  the  bonds  of  the  widow,  who  in  a  year 
or  two  followed  her  husband  to  the  grave,  and  thus  left 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  169 

the  whole  of  the  property  of  the  deceased  to  his  un 
checked  control.  Soon  after  this  Jude  Hosmer  quitted 
trade,  and  commenced  the  business  of  usurious  money- 
lending,  buying  up  mortgaged  securities,  disputed  titles, 
or  any  thing  else  in  which  he  saw  a  prospect  of  doubling 
his  outlay.  His  rapacity  seemed  to  increase  with  his 
age ;  and  he  was  even  suspected  by  many  of  having 
recourse  to  unlawful  practices  to  increase  his  wealth.  In 
deed,  the  state's  attorney  of  the  county,  at  one  time, 
thought  he  had  identified  him  as  the  secret  vender  of  an 
immense  amount  of  counterfeit  money  which  had  been 
saddled  on  the  community,  or  found  in  the  possession 
of  the  smaller  villains  arrested  for  attempting  to  pass 
some  of  it.  But  before  the  time  appointed  for  the  trial 
of  the  latter  —  part  of  whom,  on  promise  of  exemption 
from  punishment,  had  agreed  to  turn  state's  evidences, 
and  not  only  testify  themselves  to  the  allegations  they 
had  privately  made  against  Hosmer  and  several  of  his 
agents  still  at  large,  but  put  the  government  in  posses 
sion  of  other  and  sufficient  proof  —  the  whole  gang 
escaped,  having  broken  jail  by  means  of  implements  fur 
nished  them  evidently  from  without  —  by  unknown  con 
federates,  as  was  said  by  some,  while  others  shook  their 
heads,  but  thought  it  prudent  to  keep  their  suspicions  to 
themselves.  Old  Jude  was  also  twice  charged  before  the 
grand  jury  with  the  crime  of  procuring  false  witnesses 
in  his  lawsuits.  And  here,  too,  he  strangely  escaped  by 
the  absconding  of  some  witnesses  and  the  unexpected 
testimony  of  others.  But  though  he  thus  triumphed 
over  all  who  had  attempted  to  make  him  amenable  to 
the  criminal  law,  and  though  for  awhile  he  bore  all  down 
before  him  in  civil  litigation,  yet,  at  length,  the  general 
15 


170  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

suspicion  that  his  movements  had  created  in  the  public 
mind  began  to  count  to  his  disadvantage.  The  current 
of  his  luck  in  the  law  turned  against  him ;  and  he  lost, 
in  rapid  succession,  three  or  four  important  suits,  in 
which  he  had  been  engaged,  and  with  them  large  sums 
of  money.  It  was  known,  also,  that  his  property  must 
have  suffered  deeply  in  several  heavy  speculations,  into 
which,  goaded  on  by  his  avarice,  he  had,  gambler  like, 
rashly  entered,  by  way  of  retrieving  the  bad  fortunes  that 
had  latterly  attended  him.  Still  he  was  supposed  to  be 
immensely  rich  in  his  own  property,  besides  having  the 
use  of  that  of  his  ward.  As  to  the  latter,  however,  he 
had  given  out,  especially  since  his  own  reverses,  that  his 
brother's  property  had  been  strangely  overrated  ;  and 
that,  in  consequence  of  large  debts  that  had  been  unex 
pectedly  brought  against  it,  and  the  failure  of  securi 
ties,  little  or  nothing,  after  meeting  the  expenses  of 
settling  the  estate  and  defending  titles,  would  be  left  for 
the  heir  over  what  had  been  expended  in  her  mainte- 
jnance  and  education. 

Such  had  been  the  history  —  as  far  as  could  be  known 
to  the  public  of  the  affairs  of  one,  who  so  closely  kept  his 
dark  counsels  to  himself  —  such  the  history  and  un- 
genial  character  of  Jude  Hosmer,  whom  we  will  now 
accompany  to  his  abode,  which  had  been  any  thing  but 
a  blessed  one  —  for  most  of  his  children  had  died  early ;  a 
son,  who  arrived  at  maturity,  became  a  drunkard,  arid 
died  miserably ;  and  his  only  remaining  child,  a  married 
but  childless  daughter,  had  become  insane.  And  his 
family  at  this  time  consisted  only  of  his  wife,  a  weak, 
sickly,  querulous  woman,  her  nurse  and  maid  of  all  work, 
—  a  blear-eyed  old  thing,  with  just  sense  enough  to  make 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  171 

a  good  drudge,  —  a  deaf,  surly-looking  servant  boy, 
nearly  grown,  and  lastly,  Miss  Lucy  Hosmer,  the  niece 
and  ward  already  mentioned  — a  lovely  and  high-minded 
girl,  now  in  the  first  fresh  bloom  of  womanhood,  and 
standing  here  in  singular  contrast  with  the  ill-assorted 
inmates  of  this  cheerless  domicile. 


172  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 


CHAPTER   II. 

As  Old  Jude  now  rode  into  the  yard,  his  restless  eyes 
at  once  fell  on  the  partially  disclosed  forms  of  his  niece 
and  a  young  gentleman,  occupying  two  windows  open 
ing  from  the  parlor  towards  the  garden,  and  immediately 
his  usually  severe  and  bitter  countenance  assumed  an 
expression  of  unwonted  asperity.  Leaping  from  his 
horse,  with  an  air  of  nervous  irritation,  he  made  a  few 
rapid  strides  towards  the  barn,  and  began  to  bawl  loudly 
and  angrily  to  the  servant  boy  we  have  named,  who 
stood  leaning  over  the  fence,  heedlessly  gazing  at  the 
yarded  cows. 

"  Shack  !  I  say,  Shack  !  Shack  Rogers  !  do  you  hear, 
you  deaf  booby  ?  —  come  here,  then,  and  take  care  of 
this  horse." 

«  Urn  ?  —  what  ?  —  O,  yes,"  replied  the  other,  at  length 
rousing  up  and  coming  forward. 

"  Shack,"  said  the  old  man,  going  up  closely  to  the 
other,  as  he  handed  him  the  bridle  reins,  and  speaking 
in  his  ear,  "  do  you  know  who  that  is  in  the  parlor  with 
Lucy?" 

«  Urn  ?  —  what  ?  —  O  —  why,  yes  —  Lot  Fisher,  the 
young  lawyer  —  guess  —  an't  sartin  —  the  one  that 
used  to  live  with  Squire  Stacy,  down  in  the  street, 
you  know." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  here  ?  " 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  173 

"  Um  ?  O,  'bout  two  hours,  guess  —  took  tea  —  may 
be  three." 

"  Has  he  ever  been  here  before,  when  I  was  away  ?  " 

"  Um  ?     O,  yes,  think  likely,  but  not  so  long,  guess." 

"  What  does  the  fellow  want  here  ?" 

"  Um  ?  O,  —  don't  know  —  may  be  Lucy  does,"  added 
the  speaker,  with  a  knowing  wink  of  the  off  eye. 

"  Look  here,  Shadrack,"  said  the  old  man,  complai- 
santly  addressing  the  other  by  his  true  name,  instead  of 
the  usual  contraction  ;  "  I  want  you  should  tell  me  if  that 
fellow  comes  here  again  in  my  absence.  Be  still  about 
it ;  but  keep  a  little  eye  on  their  movements,  and  I'll  do 
what  is  right — I'll  pay  you  something  extra." 

"  What's  right,  hey  ?  "  muttered  Shack  to  himself,  as 
he  led  the  horse  away  to  the  stable  —  "  Do  what  is  right, 
hey,  old  head  —  'twould  be  plaguy  strange  if  you  should 
do  any  thing  that's  next  door  neighbor  to  right.  Extra 
pay  for  keeping  an  eye  on  them,  hey  ?  Yes,  I'll  keep  an 
eye  on  them,  old  chap,  without  pay,  but  in  a  way  you 
don't  think  of,  may  be." 

With  knitted  brow,  Old  Jude  took  his  way  towards 
the  kitchen,  where  he  encountered  the  old  housemaid, 
before  described,  shaking  a  fine  damask  tablecloth  at  the 
door.  "  So,  Tabby,  you  have  been  getting  tea  for  those 
parlor  gentry,  eh?"  said  he,  sneeringly. 

"Why,  la! — why,  yes,  sir,"  replied  the  other,  turning 
up  her  great  white  eyes,  deprecatingly,  to  the  angry  face 
of  her  master. 

"  And  you  made  a  great  parade,  I'll  warrant  it  ?  "  re 
sumed  the  former,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Why,  goodness,  now !  Why,  Lucy  ordered  tea  in 
the  dining-room,  with  the  reg'lar  company  things  —  be 
15* 


174  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

sure  she  did  ;  and  I  didn't  know  you'd  got  objections,  or 
I'd  never  done  it  in  the  born  world,  Mr.  Hosmer,"  said 
the  girl  in  a  fluster. 

Old  Jude  made  no  further  remark,  but  after  musing  a 
moment,  made  his  way  directly  for  the  parlor,  and  un 
ceremoniously  entered  the  room  where  the  lovers  —  for 
such  they  might  in  truth  be  called  —  were  sitting,  happy 
in  the  interchange  of  congenial  thought  and  feeling,  and 
wholly  unconscious  of  the  domestic  storm  that  was  about 
to  burst  upon  them. 

"  I  didn't  know  that  you  was  going  to  have  company, 
this  afternoon,  Lucy,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  voice  trem 
ulous  with  suppressed  passion,  as  he  turned  abruptly  on 
the  astonished  girl,  without  deigning  a  look  or  word  to 
her  companion. 

"  Nor  did  I  myself,  scarcely,"  she  responded,  with 
some  confusion.  "  But  if  I  had,"  she  continued,  with 
increasing  firmness  and  spirit  —  "  if  I  had  known  certainly 
that  Mr.  Fisher  was  to  call  this  afternoon,  I  should  have 
not  considered  it  necessary,  perhaps,  to  apprise  you  of 
the  fact,  uncle." 

"  Mr.  Fisher  ? "  said  the  former,  tauntingly,  without 
pretending  to  heed  what  she  said,  except  the  name  of 
the  person  she  mentioned  —  "Mr.  Fisher?  —  who  is 
Mr.  Fisher?" 

"  Why,  you  certainly  have  not  forgotten  Mr.  Fisher, 
uncle — the  young  gentleman  that  studied  law  with 
Squire  Stacy,"  answered  the  girl,  turning  on  the  other  a 
searching  and  reproachful  look. 

"  Fisher ! "  pursued  the  old  man,  with  a  disdainful 
snuff — "  Lot  Fisher,  the  illegitimate  boy  that  Stacy  got 
from  a  poorhouse  down  south  somewhere  ?  " 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  175 

"  Yes,  sir,  the  same!"  promptly  said  the  young  man, 
elevating  a  head  that  might  have  served  as  a  model  for 
an  Apollo,  and  turning  his  clear,  frank,  self-possessed 
countenance  full  on  the  other. 

"  O,  is  it,"  returned  the  former,  in  the  same  sneering 
tone,  without  looking  up  —  "I  was  not  aware  that  I 
ever  invited  you  here,  sir." 

"  Mr.  Hosmer,"  rejoined  the  young  man,  still  courting 
the  averted  gaze  of  the  old  man,  "  this  is  very  hard  to 
bear,  but  as  it  is  in  your  own  house,  I  will  try  to  do  it 
without  losing  temper.  I  am  here  without  invitation 
from  you,  it  is  true,  for  I  did  not  suppose  you  would  ex 
pect  me  to  wait  for  one,  if  I  desired  to  come.  But  I 
wish  to  make  no  secret  of  my  business  here,  sir  —  it 
was  to  address  Miss  Hosmer  with  the  view  to  a  future 
connection  with  me,  and  with  the  intention,  if  she  did 
not  discourage  my  suit,  of  consulting  you  early  on  the 
subject." 

"  Consulting  !  umph !  really !  It  wouldn't  require 
much  consulting  to  get  my  mind  on  that  matter.  If 
Lucy  can't  look  any  where  but  among  illegitimates  and 
town  paupers  for  a  future  connection,  as  you  call  it,  I 
think  she  better  not  form  one  at  all." 

So  saying,  the  old  man,  turning  hastily  on  his  heel, 
shuffled  out  of  the  room,  and  slammed  the  door  after 
him,  leaving  the  distressed  and  deeply-offended  girl  in 
tears,  and  her  insulted  companion  pacing  the  room  in 
silence,  and  struggling  hard  to  maintain  the  mastery  over 
his  outraged  feelings. 

"  Miss  Hosmer,"  said  the  young  man,  pausing  before 
her,  after  quelling  his  emotions  in  a  good  degree. 

The  girl  raised  her  tearful  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  other 


176  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

* 

with  a  .ook  full  of  tenderness  and  respect,  when,  with  a 
softened  and  less  formal  tone,  he  resumed  :  — 

"  Lucy,  when  I  offered  you  my  hand  at  our  former 
interview,  it  was  done  with  much  hesitation,  and  the 
openly-expressed  fears  that  the  circumstances,  of  which 
your  uncle  has  so  harshly  taken  advantage,  would  be 
made,  in  case  you  accepted  me,  a  source  of  pain  and 
mortification  to  you  by  the  evil  minded.  The  trial,  as 
you  now  see,  is  already  begun  —  to  be  repeated,  I  know 
not  how  often  through  life.  And  if,  from  this  foretaste, 
you  begin  to  wish  it,  Lucy,  I  will  relinquish  my  suit  from 
this  hour,  and  with  it,  of  course,  all  hopes  of  that  union 
to  which  I  have  been  looking  forward  with  so  many  sweet 
anticipations  of  happiness." 

"  I  was  not  looking  for  such  an  appeal  from  you,  Lot," 
responded  the  other,  again  looking  up  with  an  expression 
of  disappointment  and  regret.  "  I  remember  what  you 
said  at  the  interview,  to  which  you  allude ;  and  I  remem 
ber,  also,  you  added,  that,  as  for  yourself,  you  should 
never  be  disturbed  by  those  circumstances  ;  for  those  who 
were  worthy  your  esteem  would  never,  in  thought  or 
word,  disparage  you  on  that  account;  and  that  no  others 
would  have  the  power  to  wound  you.  To  this  I  assented, 
as  a  just  remark,  and  assured  you,  that  if  you  could  thus 
reason  and  endure,  /certainly  ought  not,  and  should  not, 
allow  such  a  thing  to  disturb  me.  Has  any  thing  now 
occurred,  Lot,  to  lead  you  to  discredit  the  sincerity  of  my 
assurances,  or  doubt  my  consistency  and  firmness  ?  " 

"  No,  Lucy,"  replied  the  young  man  with  a  breast 
swelling  with  emotions  of  gratitude  and  admiration  — 
"  no,  noble  —  noble  girl ;  but  when  I  saw  you  in 
tears—" 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  177 

"It  was  not  that,"  —  quickly  interposed  the  other, — 
"  nothing  of  that  kind,  Lot.  I  indeed*  felt  wounded  — 
deeply  wounded  —  insulted  by  my  uncle  ;  for  I  was  in 
sulted  as  much  as  you,  by  his  treatment  of  company, 
whom  I  chose  to  receive,  and  whose  respectability  he 
knew  as  well  as  myself  —  ay,  insulted  by  my  uncle,  my 
only  near  surviving  relative,  whom  I  so  wished  to  love ! 
It  was  a  bitter  thought !  I  could  not  have  believed  he 
would  ever  have  treated  his  dead  brother's  daughter  so 
shamefully." 

"  Then,  dear  girl,  I  am  to  feel  assured,  that,  for  aught 
that  has  now  happened,  I  stand  with  you  as  before?" 

"  As  well,  most  certainly  —  perhaps  I  should  say  better 
—  your  forbearance  and  manly  conduct  under  such  trying 
circumstances  should  raise  you  in  my  esteem,  —  at  all 
events  it  will  be  highly  appreciated.  But  I  must  not 
allow  you  to  infer  from  this  any  final  answer  to  your 
proposals.  I  would  first  have  you  received  here  as  you 
should  be.  My  uncle,  as  you  must  know,  has  great  faults 
and  peculiarities  ;  but  I  would  preserve  his  character  in 
spite  of  himself,  and  induce  him  to  take  a  course  that 
will  be  for  the  credit  and  happiness  of  us  both.  In 
short,  I  would  have  his  consent  to  any  union  I  may 
form." 

"  His  consent  to  a  union  with  me,  I  fear,  you  will  never 
have,  Lucy,"  said  Lot  despondingly. 

"  We  do  not  know  that,"  rejoined  she ;  "  he  may  have 
other  objections  to  you  than  those  he  has  led  you  to  in 
fer.  He  is  a  man,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  whose  motives  are 
often  deeply  masked." 

"  It  may  be,"  said  the  former, "  that  I  have  been  misrep 
resented  to  him ;  and  when  disabused,  he  may  consent. 


178  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

And  if  he  should  ?  —  you  have  not  yet  said  what  you 
should  then  do,  Lucy." 

"  Why,  how  dull  you  are ! "  she  playfully  responded, 
with  reddening  cheek. 

"  Ay,  but  the  words,"  persisted  the  lover,  "the  comfort 
ing  words,  Lucy,  —  what  should  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why,  of  course,  I  should  submit  to  my  Lot," 
she  replied,  as  blushing  and  laughing  at  her  inadvertent 
pun,  she  dropped  her  head  on  that  fondly,  proudly  throb 
bing  bosom,  which,  at  that  moment,  a  moment  ever  fear 
fully  important  to  the  sex,  she  had  thus  virtually  chosen 
for  iveal  or  for  woe,  —  that  bosom,  on  which  —  such  is 
woman  —  she  must  now  depend  for  the  only  talisman  of 
her  earthly  happiness  in  the  allotted  calm  and  sunshine 
of  life  —  her  only  refuge  in  its  never-failing  storms  and 
reverses. 

The  lovers,  not  deeming  it  expedient  to  attempt  any 
more  interviews  in  this  house  at  present,  agreed  on  a  fu 
ture  correspondence  by  letter,  or  perhaps  such  occasional 
meetings  at  the  house  of  a  mutual  friend  in  the  village, 
as  opportunity  should  permit;  and  having  settled  this, 
they  were  on  the  point  of  separating,  when  Old  Jude,  not 
satisfied  with  the  abuse  he  had  already  offered  Fisher,  or 
irritated  that  he  still  presumed  to  linger,  hastily  reentered 
the  room,  and  began  to  repeat  his  insults  in  terms  even 
more  aggravating  than  before.  But  failing  to  elicit  this 
time  a  single  word  of  reply  from  the  young  man,  he 
seemed  to  lose  all  his  patience,  and  suddenly  pointing  to 
the  outer  entrance,  exclaimed, — 

"  There  is  the  way  out,  sir ;  there  is  the  door ;  and 
while  I  live  here,  don't  let  me  see  you  darken  it  again." 

The  young  man  deliberately  took  his  hat,  and,  bowing 
an  adieu  to  Miss  Hosmer,  departed  in  silence. 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  179 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  old  man  in  an  attempted  jocular 
tone,  as  he  turned  to  his  niece  with  the  air  of  one  ready 
to  apologize  or  conciliate.  But  his  niece,  without  paying 
the  least  attention  to  his  words  or  manner,  brushed  by 
him  with  an  air  of  chilling  dignity,  and  immediately 
quitted  the  room,  leaving  the  nonplussed  old  man  to 
digest  his  spleen  and  enjoy  his  reflections  by  himself. 

As  to  Lot,  he  soon  found  his  way  into  the  street,  but 
he  scarcely  knew  how  he  had  done  so,  for  now,  when  he 
came  to  be  alone,  and  relaxed  the  curb  of  self-control 
which  he  had  so  successfully  imposed  upon  himself,  his 
bosom  became  a  perfect  turmoil  of  conflicting  emotions. 
Although  his  heart  had  been  made  to  bound  with  happi 
ness  by  the  gratifying  proofs  he  had  received  of  the  niece's 
love,  and  the  noble  traits  of  character  on  which  he  might 
rely  for  its  continuance,  yet  that  cup  of  happiness  had 
been  sadly  dashed  by  the  treatment  of  the  uncle.  That 
delicacy,  which  he  had  naturally  felt  before  his  mistress, 
had  been  rudely  shocked,  his  pride  humbled,  and  his  whole 
feelings  outraged ;  and  chagrin,  vexation,  and  resentment, 
in  all  their  mingled  power,  took  possession  of  his  breast, 
for  a  while  overmastering  all  the  better  feelings  of  his 
heart,  which  usually  so  strongly  predominated  there,  and 
driving  him  almost  to  curse  those  who  had  been  the 
instruments  of  an  origin  which  now,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  perhaps,  he  was  ready  to  pronounce  a  reproach. 

While  struggling  under  the  influence  of  such  feelings, 
as  he  was  slowly  pursuing  his  way,  with  drooping  head 
and  abstracted  mien,  towards  the  inn  where  he  had  left 
his  horse,  the  hand  of  some  one,  who  had  overtaken  him 
un perceived,  was  laid  familiarly  on  his  shoulder,  with  a 
good-natured 


180  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

"  Hurrah  to  you,  Lot!  Is  this  you,  moping  along  with 
a  gait  so  unlike  your  usual  one  ?  What  has  happened 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Squire  Stacy ! "  exclaimed  the  other,  starting.  "  You 
have  fairly  taken  me  by  surprise." 

"  Ay,"  rejoined  the  former,  a  very  plain,  but  well-favored, 
keen-eyed  man  of  the  middle  age  —  "ay,  doubtless;  but 
that  don't  answer  my  question.  You  look  disturbed  — 
something  is  wrong  with  you,  Lot.  Where  have  you 
been  ?  " 

"  Why,  really,  Squire  Stacy,"  said  Lot,  with  a  half- 
oftended,  remonstrating  air,  "  you  really  press  me  very 
hard  about  —  " 

"  About  that  which  is  none  of  my  business,  eh  ?  "  in 
terrupted  the  squire  with  good-natured  bluntness.  "  True 
enough,  I  presume  j  but  what  other  than  a  friendly  mo 
tive  do  you  suppose  I  have  for  so  particular  an  inquiry, 
Lot?" 

"  None,  none,  certainly,"  replied  the  former,  relaxing. 
"  And  you  are  right ;  for  who  is  so  well  entitled  to  my 
confidence  as  a  consulting  friend  —  as  you,  Squire  Stacy? 
You  shall  know :  I  have  been  to  visit  your  fair  favorite, 
Miss  Lucy  Hosmer." 

"  I  suspected  so,  Lot.  And  your  reception  has  not 
been  such  as  you  had  hoped,  I  suppose." 

"  From  Lucy  herself  it  has  been  —  even  more ;  but  her 
uncle,  unexpectedly  obtruding  himself,  insulted  me  be 
yond  bearing,  and,  not  content  with  that,  finally  turned 
me  out  of  doors." 

"  Indeed !     Do  you  mean  to  be  understood  literally  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  I  should  hardly  thought  that  of  Old  Jude.  What 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  18J 

could  be  his  motive  in  taking  that  foolish  course  to  break 
off  the  match  ?  I  confess  I  don't  now  see,  though  I  very 
well  understand  why  he  will  oppose  it.  But,  stay !  did 
you  lose  your  temper,  and  retort  upon  him  ?  " 

"  No,  I  governed  myself  perfectly,  though  I  wonder 
how  I  did." 

"  That  is  well  —  very  well  —  thanks  to  my  training  — • 
eh,  Lot?" 

"  I  confess  it ;  otherwise  I  must  have  all  but  struck 
him." 

"  Ay,  and  defeated  yourself  with  both  uncle  and  niece. 
But  one  serious  question  to  you,  Lot.  Why  do  you  seek 
a  union  with  Lucy  Hosmer  ?  Do  you  want  her  for  her 
self  or  for  her  money  ?  " 

"  For  herself,  certainly.  You  surprise  me  by  the  ques 
tion  ;  for  I  have  understood  she  would  have  no  property, 
or  very  little.  Indeed,  she  once  incidentally  told  me  her 
self  that  her  uncle  had  notified  her  to  that  effect.  And 
were  it  otherwise,  I  had  hoped  you  entertained  such 
opinions  of  my  general  motives  as  would  render  that 
question  unnecessary." 

"  Well,  I  do,  Lot,  as  far  as  you  are  aware  yourself  of 
your  leading  motives  in  a  given  case;  but  we  are  all  so 
constituted,  that  we  do  not  always  realize  what  influences 
most  contribute  to  form  our  motives,  or,  rather,  what  our 
wishes  would  be  in  a  case,  if  certain  influences  did  not, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  operate  on  us.  But  one  question 
more  :  does  Lucy  love  you  ?  " 

"  I  flatter  myself  it  is  so.  Indeed,  I  can  no  longer 
doubt  it." 

"  Well,  Lot,  I  am  now  satisfied  with  your  motives 
towards  that  noble  girl,  the  lovely  inheritor  of  all  het 
16 


182 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 


father's  sterling  worth.  I  believe,  also,  you  are  worthy 
of  her,  and  I  think  I  can  promise  you  success." 

"  You  ?  you  promise  me  success  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I ;  for  I  think  I  can.  This  doubtless  sounds 
strange  to  you ;  but  it  will  appear  less  so  when  you  hear 
certain  developments,  which  it  is  now  expedient,  perhaps, 
that  I  should  make  to  you." 

"  It  may  be  so,  but  I  doubt  it.  She  will  not  marry  me 
without  her  uncle's  consent,  which  I  have  every  reason 
to  believe  will  be  withheld.  And,  besides,  every  means 
will  doubtless  be  employed  to  destroy  me  in  her  present 
good  opinion,  and,  I  fear,  with  eventual  success." 

"  Poo !  Lot ;  faint  heart,  eh  ?  I  see  you  have  not  so 
high  an  opinion  of  the  girl  as  I  have,  after  all.  But 
come,  let  us  go  into  my  office,  where  we  can  be  free  from 
intrusion.  I  have,  as  I  just  intimated,  some  confidential 
disclosures  to  make  to  you." 

But,  before  following  them  to  the  proposed  conference, 
we  will  glance  at  the  character  and  previous  career  of 
Stacy,  together  with  so  much  of  the  early  history  of  our 
hero  as  may  serve  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  connection 
between  them,  and  the  unpleasant  circumstances  attend 
ing  the  origin  of  the  latter,  to  which  allusion  has  already 
been  made. 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  183 


CHAPTER    III. 

SQUIRE  STACY,  as  he  was  always  called,  who  was  the 
village  lawyer,  was  very  generally  acknowledged  to  be 
a  strictly  honest,  and,  in  his  way,  a  good-hearted  man. 
But  as  he  was  eccentric,  and  never  did  any  thing  like 
other  people,  his  acts  and  motives  were  not  always 
rightly  appreciated,  except  by  those  who  intimately  knew 
him.  He  was  also  so  shrewd  in  reading  the  characters 
and  motives  of  others,  and  in  detecting  their  weaknesses 
and  faults,  that  he  was  more  dreaded  than  loved  gener 
ally  by  the  villagers,  who  usually  kept  aloof  from  him, 
unless  they  desired  his  professional  services,  on  which 
they  very  justly  placed  the  utmost  reliance;  for  many 
of  the  very  traits  that  had  prevented  him  from  being  a 
favorite  in  social  life  had  contributed,  doubtless,  to  suc 
cess  in  his  profession,  in  which  he  had  acquired  an  honest 
fame  and  a  fair  competence.  But  we  need  not  enlarge 
on  his  peculiar  traits,  for  they  will  be  shown  sufficiently 
for  our  purpose  in  that  characteristic  act  of  his  life  which 
involved  the  fortunes  of  the  young  friend  in  whom  we 
have  seen  him  take  so  great  an  interest. 

About  a  dozen  years  before  the  period  of  our  story,  as 
Stacy,  one  day,  was  returning  on  horseback  from  a  neigh 
boring  town,  where  he  had  been  to  attend  a  justice's 
court,  he  stopped  at  a  water  trough  by  the  side  of  the 
road  near  two  or  three  poor-looking  dwellings  ;  and,  while 
awaiting  the  slow  and  dallying  motions  of  his  horse  in 


184  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

drinking,  he  amused  himself  in  watching  the  motions  of 
a  group  of  boys  playing  near  the  spot,  and  in  indulging 
in  what,  to  him,  was  always  a  favorite  employment  — 
that  of  tfying  to  read  their  individual  characters,  present 
and  prospective.  His  eye  first  fell  on  a  boy,  much  larger 
than  the  rest,  who  was  unfeelingly  domineering  over  a 
little  timid  fellow  wholly  unable  to  defend  himself. 

"  Every  thing  there  shows  the  brute  and  coward  for 
life,  and  his  actions  confirm  it,"  said  the  squire  to  him 
self.  "  Now  for  another." 

And  his  eye  next  rested  on  a  straight,  compactly-built 
little  fellow,  standing  on  a  flat  rock,  with  no  other  cloth 
ing  on  him  than  a  coarse,  ragged  shirt,  and  a  still  more 
ragged  pair  of  trousers,  with  one  of  the  legs  entirely  torn 
off  as  high  as  the  knee. 

"  Ah  !  now  there  is  something  worth  studying  in  that 
boy,  ragged  as  the  little  Lazarus  is,"  said  the  squire, 
with  interest ;  "  head,  face,  features,  all  faultless  ;  and 
that  expression !  Why,  an  almost  perfect  model  of 
promising  indications !  But  let  us  look,  now,  for  some 
exhibition  of  character." 

And,  with  increasing  interest,  he  watched  the  boy's 
countenance,  which,  with  alternating  expressions  of  in 
dignation  and  pity,  was  keenly  bent  on  the  scene  enact 
ing  between  the  hectoring  big  boy  and  his  distressed 
little  victim. 

"  Zeke  Doty,"  presently  exclaimed  the  ragged  subject 
of  the  squire's  observations,  leaping  from  his  stand  on 
the  rock,  and  advancing  a  step  towards  the  bully,  "  can't 
see  that  any  longer  —  can't  have  it." 

"  Hoo  !  "  sneeringly  replied  the  other.  "  Seems  to  me, 
if  I  was  one  of  the  town's  poor,  and  a  come-by-chance 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  185 

to  boot,  I  shouldn't  crow  quite  so  loud.     I  will  do  as  I 
please,  for  all  you,  sir." 

"  No,  you  won't! "  rejoined  the  former.  "  You  let  that- 
little  fellow  alone,  and  stop  calling  me  names,  or  I'll 
fight  you." 

The  great  boy,  however,  only  jeered  the  more,  and 
was  beginning  to  worry  his  victim  again  ;  when  the 
other  flew  at  him  with  such  resolution,  and  followed  up 
his  blows  with  so  much  effect,  in  spite  of  the  hard  knocks 
he  received  himself,  that  his  antagonist,  though  of  nearly 
twice  his  size,  soon  yielded,  and  took  to  his  heels. 

"Well  done!"  exclaimed  the  squire.  "Ah!  I  was 
right ;  all  the  elements  of  a  firm  and  noble  nature  stand 
revealed  in  that  single  act;  and  intellect  I  know  he  has. 
If  I  could  but  have  the  training  of  that  boy !  And  why 
not  ?  I  want  a  boy,  and  he  may  want  a  place.  Let's 
talk  with  him  a  little." 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  said  he,  riding  up  to  the  boy,  who 
was  wiping  the  blood  from  his  nose,  "-you  have  got 
pretty  badly  hurt,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Some ;  but  not  so  much  as  he  did,  I  guess,"  coolly 
answered  the  boy. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"  Lot  Fisher." 

"Who  is  your  father?" 

"  Don't  know,  sir.  My  mother's  name  was  Hannah 
Fisher;  but  she  is  dead  now;  and  I  live  with  Mr.  Bean, 
who  makes  shoes  in  that  house,  there." 

"  Would  you  like  to  come  and  live  with  me,  at  the 
village  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  but  I  should.     What  do  you  do  when 
you  are  at  home  ?  " 
16* 


186  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

"  I  am  a  lawyer." 

"  But  they  say  lawyers  do  lie  so  —  " 

"  That  is  a  story  you  got  from  those  who  had  lost 
their  cases.  I  don't  lie,  and  I  would  not  have  a  boy 
that  would." 

"  I'll  go,  then,  if  Mr.  Bean  will  let  me." 

"  Very  well ;  we  will  go  and  talk  with  him,"  said  the 
squire,  riding  up,  and  calling  the  shoemaker  to  the  door. 

"  Well,  what  about  this  boy,  sir  ? "  he  asked,  as  the 
man  made  his  appearance.  "  Have  you  any  claims  to 
him?" 

"  Why,  not  in  particular,  Squire  Stacy,  I  believe  it  is. 
The  boy  being  one  of  the  town's  poor,  I  bid  him  off,  you 
see,  about  three  years  agone,  to  keep  at  a  quarter  of  a 
dollar  a  week,  besides  what  I  could  get  out  of  him  ;  and 
so  have  kept  him  till  this  year,  when  the  selick  men  said 
he  was  old  enough  to  earn  his  w^ay,  and,  if  I  didn't  want 
him,  I  must  get  a  place  for  him  ;  \vhich,  seeing  he  didn't 
seem  to  take  to  my  trade,  I  thought  I  should." 

"  That  you  can  do,  easily.  I'll  take  him  off  your 
hands." 

"  What,  for  yourself?  I  don't  know  but  I  oughter  tell 
you  the  boy  was  kinder  unfortunate  about  his  birth." 

"  So  much  the  better  ;  he  will  then  know  he  must  de 
pend  on  himself.  But  can  he  go  now  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  s'pose  so." 

"  Well,  let  him  on  with  his  hat  and  jacket,  then." 

"  He  did  have  a  hat,"  said  the  man,  "  though  I  guess 
he  has  lost  it.  But  where's  your  jacket,  Lot  ?  " 

"  Why,  'twan't  good  for  nothing,"  replied  the  boy,  "  and 
when  I  laid  it  down,  tother  day,  the  hogs  tore  the  last 
sleeve  off." 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  187 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  squire  ;  "  leap  up  here  behind 
me,  and  we'll  off'  in  a  tangent  for  home." 

Lot  was  accordingly  mounted,  in  his  scanty  rags,  with 
out  hat  or  coat,  behind  the  eccentric  squire,  who,  in  this 
manner,  proceeded  on  his  route,  entered  and  rode  through 
the  village,  heedless  of  the  wonder  or  sly  looks  of  the  vil 
lagers,  and,  landing  the  boy  at  his  house,  installed  him 
at  once  in  his  new  home. 

Stacy  had  judged  correctly  of  the  native  character  of 
the  boy,  but  he  soon  perceived  that  much  must  be  done 
for  him  in  the  way  of  instruction  and  guidance,  else  the 
strong  traits  of  disposition  and  intellect  he  possessed  — 
which,  under  judicious  management,  might  make  him  a 
useful  and  perhaps  a  distinguished  man  —  would  make 
him,  very  likely,  if  left  to  the  guidance  of  chance,  a 
curse  to  the  community,  of  which  he  should  be  an  orna 
ment.  The  squire,  therefore,  in  pursuance  of  his  own. 
notions  on  such  matters,  commenced  his  system  of  train 
ing;  and  his  first  step  was  to  inspire  the  boy  with  self- 
respect,  by  dressing  him  as  well  as  any  of  the  boys  of 
the  village,  by  always  treating  him  with  respectful  kind 
ness,  and  by  never  failing  to  praise  every  good  action, 
and  only  to  express  regret  and  sorrow  at  his  misbehavior 
and  faults.  This. course,  with  the  instruction  constantly 
accompanying  it,  transformed  him  in  a  very  few  years, 
from  the  wild,  impulsive  creature  he  was  at  first,  into  the 
most  obedient  and  docile  of  boys.  In  the  mean  time,  he 
was  allowed  the  advantages  of  schools  —  the  common 
schools  till  he  was  well  grounded  in  the  rudiments  of 
learning,  and  then  the  classical ;  but  of  the  latter  only 
enough  to  whet  the  intellectual  appetite,  to  teach  him 
how  to  learn,  to  study  on  his  own  strength,  and,  in  short, 


188  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

to  think  for  himself.  And  such  was  his  progress  and 
general  improvement  in  every  thing,  that,  at  eighteen,  he 
was  permitted  to  enter  on  a  regular  course  of  studies  in 
the  law  office,  at  twenty-one  he  was  admitted  as  a  prac 
titioner  at  the  bar  in  the  county,  with  acquisitions,  both 
scientific  and  legal,  far  superior  to  many  a  graduate  from 
college  and  law  schools,  when,  with  the  advice  of  his 
master,  he  settled,  under  the  most  flattering  auspices,  in 
a  neighboring  village.  Let  us  now  return  to  the  thread 
of  our  narrative  where  we  left  it. 

"  Now,  Lot,"  said  the  squire,  after  they  had  taken  a 
seat  by  themselves  in  the  office,  "what  do  you  imagine 
to  be  the  true  cause  of  Old  Jude's  opposition  to  your  pro 
posed  union  with  his  niece  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  do  not  know,  unless,  as  he  led  me  to  sup 
pose,  it  be  the  circumstances  connected  with  my  origin." 

"  Not  by  any  means ;  he  cares  not  two  straws  for  that ; 
and  if  the  blind  god  had  not  made  your  eyes  a  little 
filmy  when  you  look  in  that  direction,  I  think  your  usual 
sagacity  would  have  enabled  you  to  see  that  such  a  cause 
would  be  wholly  without  effect  on  such  a  man  as  Old 
Jude,  who,  as  regards  the  social  relations,  or  any  of  the 
claimed  proprieties  and  distinctions  in  society,  not  in 
volving  the  matter  of  dollars  and  cents,  has  no  more  moral 
perceptions  than  a  horse." 

"  True  ;  and  I  confess  I  was  surprised  to  be  called  to 
meet  objections  of  that  kind  in  him.  It  was,  then,  as  1 
had  partly  anticipated,  want  of  wealth,  was  it?" 

"  No ;  as-  closely  as  the  old  man  hugs  money-bags  for 
himself,  that,  if  I  read  his  dark  character  aright,  is  not 
the  true  secret  here." 

"  Why,  what  can  be  his  objection,  then  ?  " 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  189 

"  It  is  because  you  are  a  lawyer." 

«  A  lawyer!" 

"  Yes,  a  lawyer  —  such  a  one,  at  least,  as  he  probably 
thinks  you  will  make,  and  especially  one  who  stands  in 
the  relation  you  do  to  me." 

"  Your  words  are  still  too  much  of  a  riddle  for  my 
comprehension." 

"  I  presume  so,  and  will  be  till  you  hear  my  story, 
which  you  shall  now  have :  — 

"  Colonel  Hosmer,  when,  in  his  last  sickness,  he  found 
he  could  not  recover,  sent  for  me,  who  had  ever  been  his 
friend  and  legal  adviser,  and  earnestly  requested  me  to 
accept  the  trust  of  administering  on  his  estate  after  his 
decease,  and  of  becoming  the  guardian  of  his  daughter ; 
his  wife,  he  said,  being  too  feeble  in  health,  and  otherwise 
unequal  to  the  management  of  so  large  a  property.  I 
apprised  him  that  his  brother,  in  such  a  case,  could,  by 
our  statute,  claim  those  trusts ;  and  I  thought  he  would 
never  consent  to  forego  his  right,  and  suffer  a  rival  estate 
to  go  into  other  hands.  He  then  proposed  making  a 
brief  will,  and  me  the  executor.  That  place  I  also  firmly 
declined,  knowing  how  much  Old  Jude's  persecutions 
were  to  be  dreaded  by  those  who  crossed  him  where  he 
conceived  he  had  interests  at  stake.  The  colonel,  who 
appeared  disappointed  at  my  refusal,  then  remarked,  by 
way  of  explaining  the  reason  of  his  request,  that,  though 
his  property  would  probably  be  safe  in  his  brother's  hands, 
should  the  latter  continue  to  be  prospered,  yet,  should  he 
meet  with  any  great  reverses  in  his  own  affairs,  tempta 
tions  might  arise,  to  which  it  were  better  for  all  parties 
that  he  should  not  be  exposed.  The  colonel  then  asked, 
and  finally  drew  from  me  a  solemn  promise,  that,  if  his 


190  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

brother  took  charge  of  his  property,  as  he  supposed  he 
must,  that  I  would  keep  an  observant  eye  on  the  manner 
the  trust  was  discharged,  see  that  his  wife  and  daughter 
were  never  wronged,  and  in  all  things  act  towards  them 
as  a  friend  and  father.  He  then  handed  me  what  he 
assured  me  was  an  exact  inventory  of  all  his  property, 
together  with  an  appended  schedule  of  all  debts  honestly 
due  from  him,  duplicates  of  which,  it  seems,  he  had  pre 
pared,  and  kept  for  an  emergency  like  the  present  one. 
With  these  papers,  which  I  have  kept  under  lock  and  key 
ever  since.  I  left  rny  dying  friend,  who,  as  I  understood, 
sent  immediately  for  Old  Jude,  proposed  to  him  the 
same  trusts  he  had  offered  me,  and,  in  the  last  words  he 
ever  uttered,  charged  him  to  be  kind  and  just  to  the 
widow  and  fatherless.  So  you  see  now,  Lot,  why  I 
should  interest  myself  in  all  that  concerns  the  family  of 
my  lamented  friend." 

"I  do.  But  have  you  contrived  to  keep  up,  all  the 
while,  this  supervision  of  their  affairs  without  the  fact 
being  known  ?  As  long  as  I  lived  with  you,  I  never 
knew  or  suspected  any  thing  of  the  kind." 

"  No,  nor  any  others,  I  presume.  Yes,  I  have  kept  it 
up  with  anxious  vigilance.  At  the  time  I  accepted  this 
secret,  and  certainly  very  unusual  trust,  and  for  several 
years  after,  I  had  not,  it  is  true,  but  little  expectation  of 
ever  being  called  to  exercise  it,  except  in  the  mere  offices 
of  friendship.  But  it  was  not  long  before  I  began  to 
have  reasons  to  think  otherwise.  And  my  suspicions 
being  thus  early  aroused,  I  have  traced  Old  Jude,  from 
that  time  up  to  the  present,  through  all  his  secret  and 
subtle  windings  of  iniquity,  not  only  respecting  his 
brother's  affairs,  but  his  own,  which,  in  the  way  he 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  191 

was  managing,  I  thought  it  part  of  my  duty  to  inves 
tigate." 

"  Do  you,  then,  think  him  guilty  of  managing  to  de 
fraud  his  niece  and  ward  of  a  portion  of  her  property  ?  " 

"  If  he  claims  any  of  the  property  that  now  passes  for 
his,  I  do  —  not  only  a  portion,  but  the  whole." 

"  "What,  sir !  How  am  I  to  understand  you,  Mr.  Stacy  ?  " 

"  That,  if  Lucy  was  paid  off  all  that  justly  belongs 
to  her,  Old  Jude  would  not  be  left  with  a  shilling  in  the 
world!" 

"  You  astonish  me ;  and  I  can  scarcely  realize  this  of 
the  so  generally  accounted  rich  Jude  Hosmer ;  nor  can  I 
conceive  how  it  can  be  that,  with  his  sharpness,  with  his 
extreme  economy  in  family  expenses,  and  with  no  vices 
to  impoverish  him,  he  has  not  even  gained,  instead  of 
losing  property." 

"  True,  he  has  sharpness  in  deal,  even  to  the  most 
unconscionable  exaction,  economy  to  pinching,  and  none 
of  what  you  mean  by  vices  ;  but,  instead  of  the  latter, 
he  has  pursued,  instigated  by  his  insatiable  thirst  for  gain, 
a  course  of  secret  crimes  ;  and  it  was  this  which,  at  length, 
proved  the  principal  source  and  means  of  his  impoverish 
ment  and  losses.  He  began  at  first  by  bribing  witnesses 
in  his  lawsuits ;  and  his  success  for  a  while,  as  is  often 
the  case  with  those  who  enter  on  a  career  of  crime, 
blinded  him  to  the  final  consequences.  These  bribed 
men,  under  threats  of  exposing  him,  or  of  volunteering 
to  those  seeking  new  trials  in  important  suits  to  do  away 
or  explain  their  former  testimony,  have  continued  to 
make  fearful  drafts  on  his  purse.  Besides  this,  the  pub 
lic  became  so  generally  impressed  with  a  belief  in  his 
foul  practices,  that,  after  a  while,  he  stood  not  even  a  fair 


192  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

chance  ot  obtaining  his  just  rights  before  our  courts  and 
juries ;  and  he  consequently  lost  several  heavy  suits, 
when  he  ought  to  have  recovered.  He  next  went  into 
the  purchase  and  sale  of  counterfeit  bank  bills,  of  which 
you  recollect  there  were  suspicions  afloat  at  the  time. 
Well,  sir,  the  story  of  those  prisoners  whom  he  doubtless 
helped  to  escape  was  all  true ;  and  yet  it  embraced  only 
one  branch  of  his  extensive  operations ;  in  which,  finally, 
to  save  himself  from  infamy  and  a  prison,  he  had  to 
silence  a  combination  of  his  accomplices  and  agents, 
who  found  it  safer  and  easier  to  plunder  him  than  the 
public,  by  paying  them,  in  all,  enormous  sums  of  money. 
And  having  had  quite  enough  of  this,  and  become  almost 
desperate  by  his  losses,  he  lastly,  in  seeming  exemplifica 
tion  of  the  noted  adage,  "  Whom  God  would  destroy  he 
first  makes  mad"  plunged  into  heavy  speculations  in  the 
paper  cities,  then  just  got  up,  as  a  test  on  human  gulli 
bility,  one  would  think,  and  this  gave  the  finishing  blow 
to  his  own  private  property." 

"  But  is  it  not  generally  understood,"  asked  Lot,  "  that 
his  brother's  estate,  at  the  same  time,  has  turned  out 
badly,  through  unexpected  indebtedness  and  defective 
titles?" 

"  Yes,  but  that  story  all  came  from  Old  Jude,  and  has 
been  given  out  from  time  to  time,  during  the  past  half 
dozen  years,  to  prepare  the  public  mind  for  a  quiet  ac 
complishment  of  his  designs  on  the  estate." 

"  What  first  led  you  to  suspect  any  such  designs  on 
this  estate?" 

"  Why,  I  was  not  quite  satisfied,  at  the  outset,  that  he 
should  have  taken  out  letters  of  administration  and 
guardianship  on  the  bonds  of  the  widow  alone,  and  I 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  193 

think  the  court  should  have  required  further  bonds,  in  so 
large  an  estate  ;  but  he  declining  to  procure  other  sign 
ers,  the  court,  knowing  him  to  be  very  wealthy,  ap 
pointed  him  on  the  bonds  he  offered.  I  did  not  like  the 
aspect  of  the  thing,  however,  at  the  time,  I  remember ; 
for  it  looked  to  me  as  if  he  was  glancing  at  the  proba 
bility  of  his  wishing  some  day  to  appropriate  a  portion 
of  this  estate  to  himself,  and  was  thus  guarding  himself 
against  the  troubles  that  might  arise  in  being  watched 
and  called  to  account  by  bondsmen." 

"  But  at  the  death  of  the  widow  was  he  not  required 
to  give  new  bonds,  and  by  that  time,  also,  to  settle  the 
estate?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  notified  to  that  effect,  and  here  the 
judge  of  probate  was  clearly  delinquent  in  duty,  in  not 
enforcing  its  requirements.  But  as  he  appeared  so  will 
ing  to  give  new  bonds,  when  the  subject  was  named  to 
him,  though  he  always  had  some  plausible  excuse  for 
not  doing  it  then,  and  as  every  one  considered  him  so 
rich  that  it  could  only  be  necessary  as  a  matter  of  form, 
he  has  been  always  suffered  to  pass  on  without  any  bond 
but  his  own.  And  so  he  has  managed  with  regard  to  a 
settlement  with  the  court.  The  great  bulk  of  the  estate 
was  in  notes  and  mortgaged  securities,  of  which  he  never 
returned  any  inventory;  and,  having  pretended  to  sell 
|  the  real  estate  to  pay  debts  and  expenses,  the  amount 
and  situation  of  the  estate  were,  as  he  supposed,  known 
only  to  himself.  Well,  though  he  was  several  times  told 
by  the  different  judges  that  he  ought  to  settle,  yet,  as  he 
seemed  always  willing,  though  never  quite  ready,  he  was 
permitted  to  glide  along,  as  with  his  bonds,  partly  through 
the  negligence  of  the  judges,  there  being  no  one  inter- 
17 


194  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

ested  that  could  call  him  to  an  account,  and  partly 
through  their  fears  of  attempting  to  enforce  the  law  on  a 
man  of  his  influence  —  for,  in  addition  to  the  power  in 
cident  to  wealth,  Old  Jude  was  often  a  warm  politician, 
when  he  could  make  any  thing  by  it,  and  always  con 
trived  to  exercise  so  much  influence  in  the  election  of 
the  judges,  that  they  were  made  to  feel  that  their  term 
of  office  was,  in  a  great  measure,  in  his  hands.  Thus 
in  regard  to  the  management  of  this  estate.  I  have 
sometimes  thought  I  could  see  an  almost  literal  fulfil 
ment  of  the  significant  words  of  one  of  the  old  prophets 
respecting  the  approaching  corruptions  of  the  Hebrew 
government —  The  great  man  uttereth  his  mischievous 
desire,  and  so  they  wrap  it  up" 

"  All  this  looks,  indeed,  like  a  forearming  for  the  exe 
cution  of  some  such  design  as  you  allege ;  but  how  far 
has  he  proceeded' in  fact?" 

"  So  far  that  little  remains  to  be  done.  About  the 
time  he  met  with  the  first  serious  reverses  in  his  own 
fortune,  which  I  have  named,  he  commenced  changing 
the  notes  and  securities  of  his  brother's  estate  into  his 
own  name  ;  and  I  soon  found,  that  just  about  in  propor 
tion  as  he  lost  his  own  property,  he  prepared  the  way  for 
embezzling  that  of  his  ward.  And  thus,  in  realization 
of  his  brother's  fears,  he  has  gone  on  till  he  has  de 
stroyed,  as  he  believes,  all  evidence  by  which  any  parcel 
or  portion  of  that  property  can  be  identified.  These 
acts,  with  many  more  I  could  name,  when  taken  in  con 
nection  with  what  he  has  latterly  declared  to  his  niece 
and  others  about  the  failure  of  the  estate,  afford  suf 
ficient  proof  not  only  of  the  intention,  but  the  act,  of 
embezzling  the  whole  of  his  brother's  extensive  property, 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 


195 


or  at  least  turning  its  rightful  owner  off  with  some  paltry 
setting  out  in  furniture.  But  with  all  his  precautions, 
he  will  be  afraid  of  the  investigation  his  course  might 
have  to  undergo,  in  case  his  niece  married  one  whom  he 
could  not  hope  to  blind." 

"  And  has  he  never  suspected  you  in  the  part  you  have 
been  secretly  acting  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  has  ;  but  he  is  by  no  means  aware  how 
much  I  know  of  him.  And  not  suspecting  my  motives, 
and  the  moral  obligations  I  am  under  to  ferret  out  his 
misdeeds,  he  probably  thinks  what  I  do  know  will  only 
be  made  use  of  in  making  up  a  bad  opinion  of  him. 
But  he  evidently  fears  me  ;  and  he  has  much  more  reason 
to  do  so  than  he  dreams  of;  for,  in  following  him  in 
matters  that  really  concerned  me  to  know,  I  have  be 
come  possessed,  as  I  before  intimated,  of  most,  if  not  all, 
of  the  dangerous  secrets  of  his  dark,  tortuous,  and  plot 
ting  career.  And  I  tell  you,  Lot  Fisher,  that  Old  Jude 
Hosmer,  as  much  as  he  is  feared  and  courted  by  others, 
and  as  firmly  and  as  strongly  as  he  thinks  he  has  planted 
himself,  stands  tottering  on  a  precipice,  from  which  I 
think  I  have  the  power  to  hurl  him  to  destruction." 

"  This  is  as  new  to  me  as  it  is  surprising,"  said  Lot, 
thoughtfully ;  "  but  how  do  you  propose  to  make  use  of 
this  powrer  ?" 

"  To  compel  him  to  do  justice  to  his  niece.  If  he  will 
do  this,  his  crimes  against  the  state,  as  the  occasion  has 
passed  by,  shall  be  kept  still  secret,  if  he  offends  no  more. 
But  should  he  refuse  the  condition  I  shall  place  before 
him,  and  attempt  to  stand  out,  he  must  then  be  over 
thrown  by  every  means  that  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon 
him.  And  you,  Lot,  must  be  the  man,  as  the  husband 


196  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

of  Lucy  Hosmer,  to  take  the  lead  in  fighting  the  great 
battle  which  will  then  ensue." 

"  If  I  was  the  husband  of  Miss  Hosmer,  I  should  prob 
ably  take  proper  measures  to  secure  her  rights ;  but  as  I 
am  not,  and  have  not  the  least  authority  to  act  for  her, 
how  do  you  propose  that  I  should  avail  myself  of  the 
knowledge  you  have  imparted  ?  " 

"  I  would  lay  the  whole  case  before  her.  She  will 
keep  the  secret ;  and  she  will,  also,  have  the  sense  to 
perceive,  that  her  interest  and  her  happiness  alike  require 
that  she  make  you,  as  soon  as  she  is  of  age,  her  legal 
protector,  whether  her  uncle  consent  or  not." 

"  No,"  said  Lot,  after  a  thoughtful  pause,  "  I  can  never 
do  that.  All  that  I  could  say  would  be  but  to  tell  her, 
in  effect,  that  she  was  entitled  to  a  fortune  —  that  I 
would  prosecute  her  uncle  and  recover  it,  if  she  would 
marry  rne.  No,  never !  It  would  carry  with  it  an  air 
of  mercenary  calculation,  that  I  will  never  have  asso 
ciated  with  my  name." 

"  I  spoke  as  a  lawyer,  you  have  spoken  as  a  lover. 
And  perhaps  it  is  well  for  us,  in  this  mercenary  world, 
that  there  is  one  passion  devoid  of  selfishness.  I  am  not 
surprised  that  you  take  this  view  of  the  subject.  Still 
the  emergency  seems  to  require  that  some  step  to  apprise 
Lucy  of  her  rights  should  be  taken  soon — before  she  is 
of  age,  which  is  some  time  this  year,  I  think.  It  would 
probably  alter  her  resolution  about  waiting  for  her  uncle's 
consent  to  her  marriage.  And  besides  this,  there  is  danger 
that  Old  Jude,  as  soon  as  she  can  legally  act  for  herself, 
will  be  coaxing  her  into  a  settlement,  which,  unless  she  is 
previously  informed  of  her  rights,  he  will  have  in  his  own 
way.  Perhaps  I  had  better  see  her  myself." 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  197 

"  You  should  be  the  one,  if  any  body ;  but  remember 
I  can  give  you  no  authority  ;  nor  do  I  wish  you,  when 
communicating  with  her,  to  connect  my  name,  in  any 
way,  with  the  subject.'7 

"  Certainly  not ;  for  I  can  appreciate  the  delicacy  of 
the  circumstances  under  which  you  are  placed.  But  if  I 
should  conclude  to  have  a  talk  with  Old  Jude,  as  I  may, 
I  should  directly  urge  his  consent  to  her  union  with  you, 
hinting  enough  of  what  I  know,  if  I  could  not  get  along 
without,  to  bring  him  to  a  compliance.  For  I  can  see, 
that  no  strong  steps  can  be  taken  to  secure  Lucy's  estate, 
which  is  greater  than  you  even  now  dream  of,  till  your 
union  with  her.  Then,  if  you  and  she  wish  it,  I  shall  be 
ready  to  act,  not  only  with  all  my  skill  as  a  lawyer,  but 
with  all  my  good  will  as  a  friend  to  you  both." 

"  You  know,  Squire  S;tacy,  how  certainly  I  should  re 
tain  you  in  any  case  which  I  could  strictly  call  my  own ; 
and  I  doubt  not  Lucy  would  as  certainly  do  the  same. 
But,  at  present,  I  can  only  thank  you  for  your  kind  in 
tentions." 

"  Ay,  Lot,  but  you  may  expect  I  shall  be  acting  a 
little  in  anticipation  of  the  only  legal  authority  under 
which  I  can  ever  act ;  for  no  such  authority,  you  are 
aware,  could  be  conferred  in  the  secret  trust  I  accepted 
from  Lucy's  father.  But  whatever  move  I  may  make, 
it  will  be  done  with  the  utmost  caution,  and  in  a  man 
ner,  perhaps,  that  you  may  not,  at  the  time,  comprehend  ; 
for  expedients  of  no  common  character  may  be  required 
to  meet  the  doublings  of  my  subtle  opponent,  who  is 
really  more  to  be  dreaded,  in  a  contest  of  this  kind,  than 
any  three  lawyers  in  the  land.  And  here,  before  we 
part,  let  me  enjoin  the  same  caution  and  vigilance  OP 
17* 


198  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

you,  not  only  in  keeping  all  I  have  told  you  a  profound 
secret,  but  by  placing  a  double  guard  on  your  whole 
conduct.  I  know  you  have  the  best  of  all  shields  against 
the  shafts  of  enemies  and  opponents  of  all  kinds,  a  good 
moral  character.  But  Old  Jude  is  no  ordinary  opponent ; 
and  you  know  not  what  means  he  may  resort  to  by  way 
of  preventing  a  connection  in  which  he  doubtless  sees 
much  to  fear." 

The  conference  here  ended,  and  the  parties  rose  to 
leave  the  place,  when  their  attention  was  attracted  by  a 
slight  ruffling  noise,  as  of  hastily  moved  paper,  in  the  back 
room  of  the  office,  the  door  between  the  two  rooms  being 
sufficiently  ajar  to  admit  the  sound.  The  squire  instantly 
went  into  the  room,  and,  drawing  up  the  paper  curtain 
which  hung  down  over  an  open  window  in  the  rear  of 
the  building,  and  which  had  doubtless  occasioned  the 
noise,  looked  out,  but  discovered  no  person,  though  an 
eavesdropper,  owing  to  a  line  of  shrubbery  that  stood 
near  the  building,  could  have  easily  escaped  undetected. 

"  I  was  careless  in  leaving  that  door  ajar,  and  still  more 
so  in  not  shutting  down  that  window,"  said  the  squire, 
as  they  now  left  the  office  ;  "  but  I  think  it  could  have 
been  only  some  slight  puff  of  wind  that  ruffled  the  cur 
tain  ;  so  our  secret  is  still  with  ourselves,  I  presume." 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  199 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  night  which  followed  these  agitating  events  was 
not,  as  may  be  easily  imagined,  one  of  very  calm  repose 
to  either  of  the  lovers ;  for  as  they  retired  to  their  respec 
tive  rooms,  now  many  miles  apart,  and  laid  their  heads 
on  their  solitary  pillows,  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  so 
deeply  interesting  to  the  feelings  and  so  important  to  the 
future  destinies  of  both,  were  made  to  pass  again  and 
again  in  review  before  them.  And  while  the  blissful 
sensations,  flowing  from  their  own  and  the  consciousness 
of  each  other's  love,  grew  more  rapturous  in  the  retro 
spect,  the  unprovoked  treatment  they  had  received,  now 
that  the  feeling  of  resistance,  with  which  the  bosom  is 
apt  to  arm  itself  to  meet  the  infliction  of  a  wrong,  had 
passed  away,  was  felt  with  double  poignancy.  Lot's 
feelings  in  respect  to  this  treatment,  it  is  true,  had  been 
somewhat  modified  by  Stacy's  developments,  which 
were  calculated  to  lessen  the  effect  of  Old  Jude's  con 
duct  on  one  of  his  character;  but  as  much  as  these 
developments  had  quieted  his  feelings  in  some  respects, 
they  added  to  his  uneasiness  in  others.  He  now  felt 
himself  placed  in  a  new  and  somewhat  embarrassing 
position.  He  knew  not  what  fierce  battles  for  property, 
and  perhaps  for  character,  in  which  his  motives  would 
doubtless  be  impugned,  were  about  to  be  fought  over 
his  head.  And,  besides  this,  the  beautiful  girl  he  had 
wooed  in  the  confidence  arising  from  supposed  equality 


200  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

in  pecuniary  circumstances  now  stood  befo  him  as  a 
wealthy  heiress  ;  and  he  could  not  prevent  new  doubts 
and  fears  from  arising  in  his  mind,  lest,  when  this  should 
be  known,  his  humble  claims  would  be  made  to  give 
place  to  more  advantageous  offers.  The  consciousness, 
however,  of  pure  motives — of  the  fact  that  he  had  offered 
her  his  hand  when  he  supposed  her  destitute  of  wealth, 
together  with  his  faith  in  her  character  and  constancy, 
at  length  in  a  good  degree  prevailed  over  his  doubts  and 
conquered  his  uneasiness  in  this  respect.  But  though  he 
might  be  able  to  quell  these  lover-like  troubles  by  the 
deep  trust  which  he  felt  he  could  place  in  Miss  Hosmer, 
so  long  as  she  should  be  left  to  follow  the  dictates  of  her 
own  unbiased  judgment,  yet  doubts  and  fears,  far  less 
easily  disposed  of,  now  arose  for  the  effect  of  the  machi 
nations  which  this  new  insight  into  the  motives  and 
character  of  her  uncle  assured  him  would  be  put  in  train 
to  prejudice  or  deceive  her,  and  break  off  the  connection. 
And  the  more  he  looked  forward  to  the  probable  difficul 
ties  in  his  path,  and  reviewed  the  slender,  silken  thread 
of  love,  which  led  to  the  desired  consummation,  and 
which  in  all  cases  is  so  easily  snapped  asunder,  the  less 
was  his  hope  that  it  could  withstand  the  many  rude 
shocks  that  it  was  doubtless  destined  to  receive. 

With  Lucy  the  case  was  considerably  varied.  She, 
having,  by  this  time,  no  suspicions  that  the  situation  and 
extent  of  her  property  was  any  different  from  what  her 
uncle  had,  for  so  many  years,  been  artfully  preparing  her 
to  believe,  and,  consequently,  being  ignorant  of  the  deep 
motives  he  had  to  drive  away  the  suitor  of  her  choice  — 
she  could  not  bring  herself  to  believe  that  his  opposition, 
whether  grounded  on  the  inadequate  reasons  he  had  held 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  201 

out,  or  any?  ;ther  prejudice,  would  long  be  persevered  in. 
Although,  sooner  than  she  intended,  she  had  been  brought 
virtually  to  engage  herself,  in  her  sympathy  for  her  lover 
under  his  ill  usage,  and  in  admiration  of  his  manly  con 
duct  on  the  occasion,  yet  she  did  not  regret  the  step  she 
had  taken.  Entertaining  neither  a  doubt  nor  a  fear  that 
her  own  feelings  and  purposes,  or  those  of  her  lover, 
would  ever  be  estranged  or  shaken,  she  saw  no  clouds  in 
the  future.  And  the  happiness  she  felt  in  now,  for  the 
first  time,  permitting  her  gushing  affections  to  flow  unre 
strained,  and  in  looking  through  the  brightening  vista 
before  her,  was  only  alloyed  by  the  annoying  sense  of 
the  wrongs  and  insults  with  which  this  new  and  interest 
ing  era  of  her  life  was  associated.  These,  for  a  while, 
she  thought  she  could  never  forget  or  forgive.  But  re 
sentment  could  never  long  find  harbor  in  a  bosom  so 
beautifully  harmonized  as  that  of  Lucy  Hosmer,  who 
possessed  the  enviable  faculty  of  making  the  good  in 
every  picture  so  prominent  as  to  overshadow  the  bad, 
and  even  of  extracting,  like  the  bee,  some  portion  of 
vsweet  from  every  bitter  flower  she  found  in  her  path.  She 
soon  resolved,  therefore,  to  cast  away  anger,  and  endeavor 
to  conquer  her  uncle  by  kindness.  And  this  resolution 
was  strengthened  by  the  unusual  cordiality  with  which 
the  latter  responded  to  her  smiling  salutations,  when  they 
met  the  next  morning.  But  she  little  knew  what  was 
passing  in  the  breast  of  him  whom  she  thought  thus  to 
move  from  his  purposes.  He  himself  had  been  the  first 
to  perceive  the  error  he  had  committed,  and  his  plotting 
brain  was  already  at  work  devising  new  and  more  effect 
ual  measures  to  estrange  and  separate  the  lovers,  when 
he  somehow  became  apprised  of  the  existence  of  other 


202  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

dangers,  which  were  so  much  more  immediately  threat 
ening  to  his  interests  as  to  engross  his  whole  attention, 
and  cause  him  for  the  following  week  to  be  almost  wholly 
absent  from  home. 

Esquire  Stacy,  in  the  mean  while,  not  only  in  fulfilment 
of  his  promise  to  his  deceased  friend,  but  in  furtherance 
of  the  prospective  rights  and  happiness  of  the  lovers,  in 
whom,  now  he  had  discovered  them  to  be  such,  he  took 
a  double  interest,  was  anxiously  deliberating  with  him 
self  respecting  the  first  step  to  be  taken  in  their  affairs; 
and  it  was  not  till  after  the  lapse  of  many  days,  so  criti 
cal  did  he  perceive  the  ground  on  which  he  stood  to  be 
for  any  active  movement,  that  he  could  come  to  any  def 
inite  conclusion  on  the  subject.  Although,  however,  he 
made  up  his  mind  first  to  have  an  interview  with  Old 
Jude,  broach  the  subject  of  the  proposed  union  of  his 
niece  with  young  Fisher,  and  then  proceed  as  circum 
stances  should  dictate ;  and,  with  this  view,  he  went  out 
several  times  intending  to  accost  him,  but  each  time 
found,  on  inquiry,  that  he  was  absent  from  the  village. 
Wondering  what  could  cause  the  old  man,  who  was  so 
generally  about  home,  to  be  absent  so  much  just  at  this 
time,  and  growing  a  little  impatient  to  put  his  project 
into  execution,  Stacy  continued  on  the  lookout  several 
days  longer,  when,  one  morning,  he  was  gratified  to  see 
the  object  of  his  thoughts  making  his  appearance  in  the 
street.  The  squire  immediately  approached  him,  and, 
when  near,  began  to  pause  in  his  \valk,  to  intimate  his 
inclination  to  hold  some  conversation.  But  the  other, 
without  heeding  the  intimation,  brushed  by  him  with  a 
look  of  peculiar  significance,  and  passed  on  in  silence. 

"Now,  what  can  that  manner  towards  me,  and  espe- 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  203 

cially  that  expression,  mean  ?  "  said  Stacy,  glancing  after 
Old  Jude,  marching  stiffly  on  his  way.  «  It  is  the  same 
look  of  malicious  triumph  which  I  have  often  seen  him 
slyly  assume  in  courts,  and  other  places,  when  he  had 
discovered  some  hidden  advantage  over  an  opponent; 
and  it  must  now  be  meant  for  me.  Ay,  and  if  I  have 
not  read  that  masked  face  of  his,  for  twenty  years,  in 
vain,  he  thinks  he  has  made  a  discovery  through  which 
he  anticipates  a  triumph  over  me  in  some  matter  of  con 
sequence.  But  what  can  it  be  ?  " 

And  he  thought  over  his  own  private  affairs,  and  even 
the  various  lawsuits  of  which  he  had  the  charge  for  oth 
ers,  but  soon  decided  it  could  be  none  of  these.  It  must 
be  that  he  had  got  wind  of  his  disclosures  to  Lot  —  but 
how?  Lot  himself,  surely,  after  the  cautions  he  had 
received,  would  not  have  even  hinted  the  matter  to  any, 
except  Lucy ;  and  her,  it  was  quite  certain,  Lot  had  not 
seen ;  and  he  must  have  known  better  than  to  have 
trusted  such  a  secret  in  a  letter  to  her.  But  by  what 
other  means  could  the  old  fox  have  got  at  the  secret? 
u  Stay,  stay,"  at  length  exclaimed  the  squire,  in  alarm, 
as  now,  for  the  first  time,  the  truth  glanced  through  his 
mind,  —  "that  noise  we  heard  in  the  back  window  of  the 
office  ! "  He,  or  some  dirty  minion  sent  for  the  purpose, 
must  have  been  there,  and  listening  to  our  whole  dis 
course,  perhaps.  Well,  it  does  seem  as  if  the  Old  Evil 
One  himself  told  him  what  was  going  on,  else  how 
should  he  have  the  thought  of  being  there,  with  such  an 
object?" 

The  secret  of  the  old  man's  continued  absence  during 
the  past  week  was  now  explained.  Although  Stacy,  in 
the  disclosures  he  made  to  Lot>  had  not,  while  stating 


204  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOSTV 

what  he  could  prove  of  Hosmer's  misdeeds,  named  any 
of  the  persons  on  whom  he  relied  for  evidence,  yet  he 
knew  the  old  man  would  use  every  effort  to  discover 
them,  and  that,  if  successful,  he  would  scruple  at  no 
means  to  corrupt  or  intimidate  them.  No  longer  doubt 
ing  that  his  subtle  opponent,  in  his  alarm  at  what  he  had 
probably  overheard,  had  been  abroad  solely  for  the  pur 
pose  of  trying  to  ascertain  the  sources  of  his  danger,  the 
squire  at  once  resolved  to  lose  no  time  in  visiting  the 
most  important  of  his  secret  witnesses,  in  order  to  ascer 
tain  whether  any  of  them  had  been  discovered,  or  sus 
pected  to  be  such,  and  to  take  such  measures  with  them, 
by  inducing  them  to  commit  themselves  on  paper,  or 
otherwise,  as  should  be  best  calculated  to  secure  them 
against  the  tampering  arts  to  which  they  might  now  be 
subjected.  Accordingly,  the  next  morning,  he  saddled 
his  horse,  and  set  forth  on  his  projected  expedition,  with 
some  apprehensions,  certainly,  but,  after  all,  with  no  seri 
ous  expectation  that  any  thing  of  consequence  had  been 
discovered,  much  less  that  any  thing  could  have  been 
effected.  But  he  soon  began  to  perceive  traces  of  his 
opponent;  and,  as  he  continued  his  rounds,  he  became 
fully  satisfied  that,  wherever  he  went,  the  crafty  and  per 
severing  Old  Jude  had  been  there  before  him,  making 
use  of  all  the  means  that  wealth,  artifice,  or  intimidatioTf 
could  effect  in  repairing  the  breaches  \vhich,  with  the 
clews  he  had  received,  he  had,  to  his  great  alarm,  doubt 
less,  found  open  and  unguarded  in  the  wall  of  defences 
with  which  he  supposed  he  had  so  strongly  intrenched 
himself.  One  man,  by  whom  Stacy  expected  to  show  a 
bold  fraud  in  the  sale  of  real  estate,  in  which  that  person, 
in  a  pretended  public  sale,  had  been  employed  to  bid  in 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  205 

—  as  he  did,  for  a  mere  song,  and  then  redeed  to  Old 
Jude  —  the  most  valuable  piece  of  Colonel  Hosmer's 
property,  now  produced  a  receipt  from  the  administrator 
to  apply  for  the  amount  of  the  value  of  the  premises, 
except  interest,  and  pretended  that  what  he  had  before 
said  respecting  the  sale  was  only  to  gratify  a  momentary 
spleen,  and  not  intended  to  be  in  earnest.  Another  per 
son,  by  whom  was  to  be  proved  a  collusion  in  the  com 
promise  of  what  is  usually  termed  a  trumped-up  claim, 
brought  against  the  estate,  in  which  Old  Jude,  on  the 
payment  of  some  small  sum,  and  taking  receipts  for  the 
amount  claimed,  had  charged  the  estate  several  thousand 
dollars,  had  now,  like  the  other  man,  his  false  answer, 
feigning  to  have  forgotten  all  about  the  affair,  except 
that  it  was,  as  the  papers  showed,  a  fair  and  honest 
transaction.  And  nearly  thus  did  the  vexed  and  cha 
grined  squire  find  every  case  which  related  to  the  frauds 
he  once  could  have  proved,  he  felt  sure,  to  have  been 
committed  on  the  estate.  Nor  was  he  any  more  success 
ful  with  those  by  whom  he  had,  directly  or  indirectly, 
been  intrusted,  in  confidence,  with  secrets  respecting  the 
old  man's  criminal  offences,  by  which  it  was  supposed 
he  could  be  sent  to  the  State's  Prison.  One  had  just 
bought  a  piece  of  land  of  Hosmer,  on  trust,  and  now 
knew  nothing  to  his  disadvantage.  Another  had,  sud 
denly,  the  past  week,  gone  off  for  some  unknown  part 
of  the  western  country,  having,  somehow,  been  helped 
to  the  pecuniary  means  of  doing  so,  as  he  had  long 
wished,  but  never  before  had  the  ability ;  while  another 
•boldly  denied  a  communication  formerly  made  to  Stacy, 
in  private,  and  challenged  him  to  prove  it. 

"  Outwitted  and  outdone !  ay,  completely  outdone,  at 
18 


206  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

least  for  the  present,"  exclaimed  the  baffled  lawyer,  as  he 
now  relinquished  the  further  prosecution  of  his  object  in 
despair,  and  rode  thoughtfully  homeward.  "  But  we  will 
see  if  there  be  no  other  field  of  action  in  which  to  give 
battle  to  the  slippery  old  rascal.  If  human  ingenuity  can 
devise  the  means  of  bringing  him  to  justice,  it  shall  now 
be  done  with  a  vengeance ;  for  now  that  he  has  seen  so 
much  of  my  hand  in  this  strange  game,  he  will  never  rest 
on  the  defensive,  even  as  regards  me  personally,  but  soon 
be  hatching  his  plots  to  destroy  me.  So  he  or  I  must  fall 
in  the  contest,  which  I  can  no  longer  avoid,  if  I  would." 

One  morning,  several  days  subsequent  to  Stacy's  sig 
nal  failure  in  respect  to  that  power  which  he  thought  he 
possessed  over  Old  Jude,  and  in  which  he  so  much  trust 
ed  to  bring  the  other  to  terms,  as  the  former  was  sitting 
in  an  open  window  of  his  office,  deeply  engrossed  in  the 
subject  that  now  principally  occupied  his  thoughts,  he 
suddenly  started,  and  called  to  his  wife,  who  was  out 
training  some  shrubbery  in  the  pleasant  little  yard  en 
closed  between  the  house  and  office, — 

"  Wife,  how  old  is  Lucy  Hosmer  ?  Do  you  know 
exactly?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  comely  and  intelligent-looking 
matron,  turning  round  with  a  surprised  and  inquiring 
expression  —  "yes,  I  know;  and,  by  reckoning  a  little,  I 
can  tell  to  a  day." 

"  "Well,  reckon  away,  then.     I  want  to  know  exactly." 

"  I  will,  Mr.  Impatience.  How  long  have  we  been 
married  ?  —  eighteen  years,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  this  Jane." 

"Very  right,  sir ;  but  what  day  of  June  is  it  now?" 

"  To-day  is  the  twentieth." 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  207 

"Well,  Lucy  was  of  age  —  that  is,  eighteen  —  then, 
yesterday." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that,  wife  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  will  make  you  so  in  a  dozen  words.  You 
will  remember  that  you  depended  on  having  Colonel 
Hosmer,  your  great  friend,  at  our  wedding;  and  do  you 
not  also  remember  that  he  was  prevented  from  attending 
by  the  confinement  of  his  wife,  that  day,  of  their  first 
and  only  child  ?  " 

"I  do  —  yes,  I  do  recall  the  circumstance  now;  but 
what  day  of  the  month  was  that  ?  " 

"  The  nineteenth,  as  you  will  find  by  consulting  our 
Bible  record." 

"  You  are  right,  woman,  though  I*  did  not  dream  that 
she  was  of  age  so  soon.  It  is  strange,"  he  continued, 
slapping  together  the  book  in  his  hands  with  an  air  of 
vexation,  "it  is  plaguy  strange  I  can't  keep  up  with  any 
thing.  This  must  be  seen  to  immediately." 

*'  What  must  be  seen  to,  my  dear  sir?  I  do  not  see  to 
what  all  this  can  tend." 

"  I  didn't  mean  you  should,  Mrs.  Curiosity;  (there,  that 
makes  us  even.)  It  is  an  office  secret,  which  women 
must  not  know." 

"  Well,  I  was  not  aware  that  office  secrets  embraced 
so  particularly  the  ages  of  the  ladies.  But,  to  be  serious 
if  your  inquiry  relates  to  any  move  you  are  about  to 
make  respecting  Lucy's  property,  I  hope  you  will  go  on, 
for  I  have  long  suspected  that  great  wrong  would  be  done 
that  amiable  girl." 

"  Ay,  but  don't  guess  it  aloud;  and,  look  here,  wife  — 
if  Lucy  comes  into  the  street  to-day,  I  want  you  should 
ask  her  into  the  house;  if  not,  contrive  up  some  way  to 


208  THE  GUAHDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

get  her  from  home  where  I  can  see  her;  for  I  must  not 
let  that  sun  go  down  without  having  a  talk  with  her." 

But  all  Stacy's  inducement  to  see  his  fair  young  friend 
was  destined  to  be  destroyed  by  the  unexpected  occur 
rence  of  the  next  moment.  Even  before  he  and  his  wife 
had  finished  all  that  would  probably  have  been  said,  they 
were  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  Old  Jude's  servant, 
Shack  Rogers,  who  entered  the  office,  holding  a  paper  in 
his  hand,  which  he  presented,  saying  in  his  usual  gruff 
and  unconcerned  manner, — 

"  Mr.  Hosmer  wants  you  should  read  that,  squire,  and 
tell  him  whether  or  no  it  is  good  in  law." 

With  considerable  surprise  at  so  unexpected  a  request, 
Stacy  took  the  paper,  and  that  surprise  soon  changed  to 
a  feeling  bordering  on  consternation,  as  he  read  it  as 
follows:  — 

"  In  consideration  of  three  hundred  dollars,  received  to 
my  full  satisfaction  of  Jude  Hosmer,  in  his  note  payable 
in  clothing  or  furniture,  I  hereby  fully  acquit,  release,  and 
discharge  the  said  Hosmer  from  all  claims,  rights,  and 
demands  of  every  kind  I  have  or  may  have  on  him  for 
any  and  all  the  property,  personal  and  real,  that  came 
into  his  hands  as  my  guardian,  or  as  the  administrator 
of  my  father's  estate;"  which  instrument,  bearing  date 
of  that  day,  was  signed  by  Lucy  Hosmer,  sealed  and 
witnessed  by  Shadrack  Rogers  and  Tabitha  Talbot,  all 
in  due  form. 

When  the  squire,  on  a  second  perusal,  became  fairly 
convinced  that  this  strongly-written  instrument  was  gen 
uine,  he  could  scarcely  restrain  his  indignation  from 
bursting  forth  in  open  execrations;  for  he  saw  at  once 
that  the  settlement  and  discharge  into  which  the  injured 
orphan  had  been  so  artfully  drawn,  by  the  wretch  who 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  209 

should  have  protected  instead  of  plundering  her,  must 
give  a  finishing  blow  to  her  expectations,  unless  it  could 
be  proved  —  which  was  not  very  probable  —  that  the 
paper  was  obtained  by  fraudulent  representations ;  and 
he  saw  also  very  clearly  that  it  had  been  sent  there,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  advice,  as  the  old  man,  who  had  not 
consulted  him  for  a  dozen  years,  now  pretended,  but  in 
the  spirit  of  insulting  defiance,  and  only  to  show  the 
completion  of  his  triumph.  And  if  ever  the  conscien 
tious  attorney  was  tempted  to  do  a  wrong  act,  it  was 
to  tear  the  paper  to  pieces  on  the  spot.  But  a  second 
thought  corrected  the  inclination,  and  he  said  to  himself 
in  a  low  tone,  — 

"  No,  no  —  that  won't  do,  nor  perhaps  any  thing  else; 
but  I  cannot,  and  will  not,  believe  that  Providence  will 
permit  such  a  monstrous  wrong  to  go  unpunished." 

As  the  squire  finished  the  sentence,  he  happened  to 
glance  at  Shack's  countenance,  and  found  it,  to  his  sur 
prise,  beaming  with  an  expression  of  pleasure  and  intel 
ligence.  And  the  long,  scrutinizing  look,  which  he  in 
stantly  turned  on  the  other,  convinced  the  penetrating 
lawyer  that  the  fellow  possessed  feelings  and  intellect 
that  he  never  had  credit  for;  and  that,  though  he  was 
formerly  very  deaf,  in  consequence  of  a  severe  scarlatina, 
his  deafness  now,  for  some  shrewd  motive,  must  be  par 
tially  or  wholly  assumed.  This  circumstance,  which 
scarcely  would  have  been  noticed  by  an  ordinary  obser 
ver,  or,  if  noticed,  passed  over  as  of  no  consequence,  was 
eagerly  seized  on  by  Stacy  as  a  new  clew  to  possible 
advantages  of  much  importance,  and  he  at  once 'deter 
mined  to  follow  it  up  by  putting  Shack  to  further  trial. 
With  this  object  in  view,  he  raised  his  voice,  and  said, — 

"  Yes,  the  paper  is  good  enough." 
18* 


210  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

"  Umph  —  what  ?  "  said  Shack,  through  habit  or  design. 

"  Tell  your  master  it  is  good  in  law,"  bawled  the  squire  ; 

"  but,"  he  added,  letting  his  voice  fall  to  a  very  low  key 

—  "but  shall  you  tell  him  also  what  I  said  to  myself 
about  his  cheating  Lucy  ?  " 

Shack  again  looked  knowingly,  and,  without  making 
any  direct  reply  to  the  question,  observed,  — 

"  One  of  my  ears,  somehow,  has  got  a  notion  of  hear 
ing,  when  any  thing  is  going  on  against  Lucy,  who  has 
treated  me  kinder  than  all  the  rest  put  together  there ; 
but  it  won't  hear  any  more,  squire,  if  you  tell  what  I 
sorter  mistrust  you  have  guessed  about  it." 

"  I  will  keep  your  secret  till  you  tell  mine,"  said  the 
squire,  regarding  the  fellow  with  increasing  interest. 

"  It  is  safe,  then,"  said  Shack ;  "  and  if  you  feel  as  I 
do  about  certain  things,  perhaps  I  may  tell  you  what  you 
don't  know,  and  help  on  matters  some." 

"Ah,  that  is  it,  my  good  fellow!"  exclaimed  Stacy 
eagerly  and  with  brightening  eye ;  "  that  is  what  I  want 

—  we  understand  each  other,  do  we?    Lucy  —  her  prop 
erty —  and  the  one  she  would  like  to  marry  —  eh?" 

"  Exactly ;  but  I  must  go  now,  or  some  bird  will  be 
carrying  news  to  the  old  man." 

"  Stay !  are  you  not  hoeing  corn,  these  days,  down  in 
his  meadow,  by  the  river  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  out  of  sight  of  the  house  where  the 
old  chap  stays,  mostly." 

"Well,  suppose  I  should  stroll  along  down  there  with 
my  fish-pole  this  afternoon,  could  you  show  me  where  I 
might  catch  a  few  good  trouts  for  a  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Yes,  oceans  of  'em  —  I  saw  a  whacker  there  yester 
day,"  replied  Shack,  with  a  significant  wink,  as  he  hurried 
out  of  the  office. 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  211 


CHAPTER    V. 

LEAVING  the  persevering  squire,  still  undiscouraged 
by  his  repeated  defeats,  to  devise,  by  the  expected  dis 
closures  and  assistance  of  his  freshly-discovered  ally, 
new  schemes  on  the  ruins  of  the  old,  for  the  accomplish 
ment  of  his  object,  which,  however  hopeless  the  case 
might  seem  to  one  less  fertile  in  expedients,  he  had  no 
notion  of  yet  relinquishing,  we  will  now  return  to  the 
abode  of  his  opponent,  through  whom  most  of  the 
remainder  of  our  story  will  be,  perhaps,  the  best  de 
veloped. 

After  Old  Jude  had  succeeded  in  consummating  his 
baseness  towards  his  niece,  in  the  settlement  we  have  de 
scribed,  and  sent  off'  Shack  to  carry  the  evidence  of  his 
iniquitous  triumph  to  Stacy,  he,  being  then  left  alone  in 
his  room,  sat  some  minutes  immersed  in  deep  thought ; 
when  arousing  himself,  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  run 
through  some  calculation  and  found  every  thing  satisfac 
tory,  he  began  to  soliloquize  :  — 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  every  bar  is  now  put  up, 
and  all  is  safe  at  last,  which  makes  my  property  as  good 
as  in  my  best  days  —  perhaps  a  little  better.  Well,  I 
wouldn't  have  been  so  frightened  for  any  small  sum! 
But  I  have  headed  the  meddling  rascal  cleverly,  blast 
him  !  and  I  want  he  should  know  it,  which  will  be  both  a 
caution  and  a  punishment  to  him,  till  I  can  safely  punish 
him  more  effectually.  I  wonder  what  he  will  say,  when 


21.2  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

he  reads  the  paper —  I  should  like  just  to  get  a  peep  at 
his  face,  at  the  time,  to  see  him  wince  under  the  bitter 
pill."  And  the  old  man  chuckled  aloud  with  inward 
exultation  at  the  thought  of  having  outdone  one  of  the 
shrewdest  lawyers  in  the  country,  and  thus  secured  to 
himself  a  fortune.  "  Well,  he  and  his  young  prig  of  a 
lawyer  won't  be  quite  so  fierce  to  get  the  girl  now,  1 
guess,  seeing  they  can't  get  the  property,  in  which  they 
were  to  go  snacks,  I  suppose.  But  if  the  hateful  young 
dog  should  persevere,  he  must  be  stopped  —  'twon't  do 
to  let  him  marry  her  —  he  may  be  digging  up  something. 
No,  Lucy  must  be  cured,  but  in  some  different  way  from 
the  one  I  tried  —  though  if  I  could  have  provoked  him  to 
strike  me.  But  stay,  I  forgot  to  watch  Shack!  —  no 
knowing  who  can  be  tampered  with  —  perhaps  it  ain't 
too  late  to  see  to  it  now,"  he  added,  jumping  up  and 
pa-ssing  out  at  a  back  door  to  the  top  of  a  sharp  little 
hill  near  the  house,  embowered  with  fruit-trees,  where, 
unseen  himself,  he  could  obtain  a  view  of  the  road  even 
to  Stacy's  office  door  —  being  the  post  of  observation, 
which  he  had  used  a  fortnight  before  in  dogging  Lot  and 
Stacy  to  the  office,  when,  in  his  jealousy  and  meanness, 
he  stole  round  to  the  rear  of  the  building,  and  played  the 
eavesdropper,  as  already  intimated. 

"Ah!  there,  Shack  is  just  entering  the  office,"  he  re 
sumed,  peering  through  the  shrubbery — "I  will  allow 
him  five  minutes  to  do  the  business  in  and  be  out." 

So  saying,  the  suspicious  old  man  took  out  his  watch, 
and  noted  the  minute  hand  till  the  allotted  time  had  ex 
pired  ;  when,  looking  up  and  seeing  nothing  of  Shack, 
he  became  uneasy,  and  his  cold  gray  eye  began  to  gleam 
with  distrustful  glances.  In  less  than  another  moment, 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  213 

however,  the  servant  emerged  from  the  office  door,  and 
struck  out  directly  for  home. 

"  All  right  —  even  if  he  had  tried  to  tamper,  he  couldn't 
have  made  the  stupid  booby  understand  any  thing  in  so 
short  a  time,"  said  Old  Jude,  with  relaxing  countenance, 
as  he  put  up  his  watch,  and  retraced  his  steps  back  to 
his  room,  where  Shack  in  a  short  time  made  his  appear 
ance,  and,  with  his  usual  air  of  careless  indifference,  de 
livered  the  paper,  with  which  he  had  been  despatched,  to 
its  owner. 

"  What  did  he  say,  Shack?"  eagerly  asked  the  latter. 

"Urn?— what?" 

"  What  did  he  say,  I  ask  you,  when  he  read  the  paper  ?  " 

«  Urn  ?  —  O,  not  much  ;  but  what  was  in  it,  that  made 
him  look  so  queerish  about  it  ?  " 

"  No  matter  —  what  did  he  say  and  do  ?  " 

"  Um  ?  —  what? — O,  he  said  'twas  good  enough  in 
law,  he  s'posed,  then  had  something  over  to  himself,  and 
acted  kinder  maddish." 

"  Then  it  made  him  mad,  did  it,  Shack  ?" 

"  Um  ?  — what  ? — O,  yes  —  grumbled,  and  made  faces, 
like." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  he!  he!  he!  Good!"  again  chuckled 
the  old  man,  in  his  dry,  hyena-like  laughter.  "  There, 
Shack,  you  may  go  back  now  to  your  hoeing  in  the 
meadow." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day  Old  Jude  gave  himself 
almost  wholly  up  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  fancied  tri 
umph.  The  scheme  had  employed  all  his  powers  of 
cunning  and  contrivance  for  years ;  and  he  now,  for  a 
while,  felt  a  pleasure  and  exultation,  not  only  in  propor 
tion  to  the  magnitude  of  the  object,  but  to  the  anxious 


214  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

study,  the  constant  fears,  and  especially  the  recent  alarms, 
he  had  experienced,  in  accomplishing  it.  But  the  human 
mind  has  been  so  constituted  by  a  just  and  wise  Provi 
dence,  that  it  can  never  long  receive  happiness  from  the 
success,  or  from  any  of  the  fruits,  of  fraud  and  injustice. 
The  excitement  of  the  chase,  the  employment  of  the  fac 
ulties  in  devising,  and  the  energies  in  executing,  a  scheme 
of  iniquity,  may,  indeed,  for  the  time,  stifle  the  voice  of 
conscience;  and  the  final  achievement  of  the  object  may, 
at  first,  bring  a  sort1  of  savage  pleasure  to  the  bosom. 
But  when  those  faculties  and  energies  cease  their  exer 
tion,  when  the  attendant  excitement  dies,  and  the  short 
lived  pleasure  of  the  triumph  passes  away,  the  mind  re 
acts,  the  conservative  principle  we  have  named  begins  its 
office,  and  soon  brings  the  heart  to  long  and  painful  re 
pentance,  or  plants  within  its  core  the  thorn  of  enduring 
remorse. 

And  so  it  was  with  this  execrable  wretch,  in  the  exe 
cution  of  his  flagitious  plot  for  robbing  his  orphan  niece 
of  her  inheritance.  As  the  excited  feeling  attendant  on 
the  pursuit  of  his  object,  and  the  almost  fiendish  glee  he 
had  felt  in  its  accomplishment,  subsided,  other  and  un 
welcome  thoughts  began  to  obtrude  themselves  on  his 
mind.  He  could  not,  with  all  the  sophistry  with  which, 
villain-like,  he  essayed  to  appease  the  annoying  sugges 
tions  of  awakening  conscience  —  he  could  not  help  see 
ing  that  his  was  not,  in  fact,  a  triumph  over  a  hated  op 
ponent,  but  over  an  innocent,  defenceless  girl.  He  could 
not  prevent  the  promise  he  made  to  his  dying  brother, 
to  be  just  to  the  fatherless,  from  recurring  again  and 
again  to  his  remembrance,  which  seemed  strangely  to 
grow  more  vivid  in  this  particular,  the  more  he  attempted 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  215 

to  deaden  it.  And  he  went  to  his  lone  bed  that  night 
with  thoughts  and  feelings  which  he  tried  in  vain,  and 
which  he  cursed  himself  for  not  having  the  power,  to 
banish  from  his  disturbed  mind  —  with  thoughts  and  feel 
ings,  in  short,  which  none  but  the  guilty  can  know. 

Borne  time  in  the  night  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
a  strange  noise,  —  he  could  hardly  tell  what,  though  it 
seemed  to  him  like  a  human  groan,  coming  from  be 
neath,  or  some  place  not  greatly  distant,  as  far  as  he 
could  attach  any  definite  idea  to  it,  in  his  confusion.  But 
it  chimed  in  so  well  with  a  troublous  dream,  which  he 
now  recalled  as  having  just  disturbed  him,  that  he  soon 
concluded  the  supposed  noise  must  have  been  part  of  it; 
and,  uttering  a  peevish  psha !  he  tried  to  compose  him 
self  again  to  sleep.  And  in  this  he  had  nearly  succeeded, 
when  the  same  hollow  groan,  issuing  from  below,  and 
seemingly  struggling  upward,  as  if  through  the  opening 
of  a  rending  tomb,  rose  distinctly  on  his  startled  ears,  and 
died  away,  moaningly  uttering,  as  he  thought,  "  My 
brother,  O  my  brother,  why  hast  thou  disturbed  me?" 

The  confused  and  frightened  old  man  sprang  bolt  up 
right  in  his  bed,  and,  with  glaring  eyes,  peered  over  on 
to  the  floor,  and  round  the  dimly-seen  corners  of  his 
room  ;  but  he  could  discover  nothing.  He  then,  with 
palpitations  so  wild  and  audible  as  almost  to  disturb  his 
own  hearing,  sat  some  moments  listening  intently  for  a 
repetition  of  the  dreaded  but  expected  sound.  He  was 
unable,  however,  to  distinguish  even  the  slightest  noise. 
All  within  and  around  was  as  silent  as  the  grave.  Still, 
not  satisfied  to  let  the  mystery  rest  here,  he  arose  and 
groped  his  way  out  of  his  room,  and  round  into  that  of 
his  servant,  who  slept  in  the  next  adjoining  apartment. 


216  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

But  Shack  was  snoring  loudly,  and  evidently  had  not 
been  disturbed.  The  old  man  then  came  out  into  the 
long  hall  that  ran  by  their  rooms,  and  again  listened  for 
some  movement  in  other  parts  of  the  house.  He  would 
have  felt  almost  thankful  to  have  heard  the  stealthy  steps 
of  thieves,  of  whom  he  usually  stood  in  much  fear,  for 
it  would  have  relieved  him  of  an  awe  and  dread  far  more 
terrible.  But  he  could  not  hear  any  thing ;  and  he  soon 
returned  to  his  bed,  and,  after  an  hour's  turning  and  tum 
bling,  varied  only  by  fitful  starts  and  turns  of  intense 
listening,  was  lucky  enough  to  fall  asleep. 

The  next  morning  Old  Jude  arose  with  a  perplexed 
and  troubled  brow,  and  made  anxious  inquiries  of  all  the 
members  of  the  family  whether  they  had  heard  any  unu 
sual  noises  during  the  night.  Uniformly  answering  him 
in  the  negative,  they,  in  their  turn,  became  curious  to 
know  why  he  had  made  such  inquiries;  and  it  was  easy 
to  see  that,  although  he  evaded  their  questions,  or  turned 
them  off  with  some  false  account,  his  conduct  and  ap 
pearance  had  not  a  little  excited  and  disturbed  them. 
But  they  were  left  to  indulge  in  such  conjectures  as  they 
chose  to  make,  for  he  studiously  avoided  any  further  con 
versation  on  the  subject. 

"  It  couldn't  have  been  any  thing  but  a  dream,  after 
all  —  psha,  what  a  fool  to  be  so  disturbed !  "  muttered  the 
old  man  to  himself,  with  an  effort  to  shake  off  the  im 
pression,  as  he  seated  himself  at  his  writing  desk,  and 
began  the  business  he  had  allotted  for  the  day. 

But  notwithstanding  these  efforts  to  deceive  himself 
and  quiet  his  disturbed  feelings,  he  was  far  from  being  at 
ease  through  the  day  ;  and  at  night,  as  the  family  retired, 
he  was  observed  to  go  round,  and  carefully  lock,  or  bar 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  217 

up  inside,  the  doors  and  all  possible  avenues  of  ingress 
to  the  house.  For  the  three  succeeding  nights,  the  old 
man  neither  heard  nor  saw  anything  to  disturb  him.  By 
this  time  he  had  so  far  succeeded  in  making  himself 
believe  that  he  had  been  the  dupe  of  his  imagination, 
sleeping  or  waking,  as  to  enable  him  to  divest  himself 
mostly  of  his  fears  of  a  repetition  of  the  strange  occur 
rence.  And,  as  he  rose  on  the  fourth  morning  following 
the  mysterious  event,  after  hooting  at  himself  a  white  for 
his  folly  in  ever  having  bestowed  a  serious  thought  on 
the  subject,  he  resolved  to  go  on  as  if  nothing  had  hap 
pened  with  that  part  of  his  grand  scheme  which,  now 
that  the  property  was  secured  against  any  ordinary  event, 
only  remained  to  be  completed,  that  of  causing  his  niece 
to  discard  the  young  lawyer,  for  whom,  he  doubted  not, 
she  still  cherished  an  affection  that,  if  not  destroyed, 
would  result  in  their  union.  Having  previously  meditat 
ed  attempting  secretly  to  undermine  Lot's  character,  as 
a  method  of  accomplishing  this  object,  he  went  out,  after 
breakfast,  for  a  walk  to  some  of  the  public  resorts  of  the 
place,  where  he  might  meet  with  some  of  that  despicable 
class  who  are  the  curse  of  country  villages  —  the  retailers 
of  slander,  into  whose  ears  he  could  whisper  his  insinua 
tions  with  a  certain  prospect  that  they  would  soon  grow 
into  stories  sufficiently  damning  to  subserve  his  purposes, 
or  where,  perhaps,  he  would  meet  with  opportunities  of 
effecting  his  purpose  by  other  and  more  direct  means. 
And  he  had  been  out  but  a  short  time,  before  he  unex 
pectedly  met  with  an  occurrence  out  of  which,  with  his 
usual  cunning,  he  soon  contrived  a  plot  that  was  singu 
larly  well  calculated  to  favor,  if  not  wholly  effect,  the 
general  object  he  had  in  view.  He  encountered  in  the 
19 


218  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

road  a  poorly-clad,  vagrant  young  woman,  who  asked  his 
charity  to  buy  food  and  clothing  for  herself  and  the  small 
child  she  carried  in  her  arms.  At  first  the  old  man  turned 
away  with  his  habitual  snuff*  of  contempt  at  such  objects  ; 
but,  musing  a  moment,  he  turned  round  and  asked  her 
a  few  rapid  questions,  by  which  he  gathered  that  she  was 
from  an  adjoining  town,  had  been  deserted  by  a  suitor 
on  the  eve  of  a  promised  marriage,  and  was  now  an  out 
cast,  with  the  fruits  of  her  imprudence  on  her  hands  —  a 
male  child,  now  nearly  a  year  old. 

"  Well,  woman,"  said  Old  Jude,  after  listening  atten 
tively  to  her  various  replies,  "  if  you  will  let  me  name 
your  boy,  and  then  do  as  I  say,  I  will  give  you  some 
thing." 

"  My  child  has  already  been  named,"  replied  the  woman. 

"  Ah  ?  well,  you  may  call  him  by  it  after  you  leave  this 
place ;  but  while  you  are  here,  if  you  will  call  him  Lot 
Fisher  in  the  hearing  of  all  you  speak  with,  and  give  no 
explanations,  I  will  give  you  a  dollar." 

"  I  don't  see  what  good  that  can  do  you,  sir;  but,  as 
it  won't  hurt  the  child  —  " 

';  No,  not  in  the  least ;  so  here  is  your  dollar.  But 
don't  forget  the  name  —  Lot  Fisher  —  nor  the  condition. 
There,  you  may  go  now.  Stay !  do  you  see  that  house 
yonder?"  added  the  speaker,  pointing  to  his  own  house. 
u  Well,  call  there,  and  you  will  find  a  young  lady  who 
is  partial  to  that  name,  they  say,  and  she  will  give  you 
something,  I  presume." 

The  woman,  after  balancing  the  coin  in  her  hand  a 
moment  in  evident  hesitation,  finally  put  it  up  and  moved 
on  in  the  direction  indicated  by  Old  Jude,  who  kept  his 
eye  on  her,  and  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her 
enter  his  house. 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 


219 


CHAPTER    VI. 

AFTER  sauntering  about  the  village  till  noon,  here  and 
there  dropping  insinuations  calculated  to  confirm  the 
story  which  he  expected  the  woman  would  be  the  means 
of  raising  to  the  disparagement  of  the  young  lawyer,  the 
old  man  returned  to  his  house,  and  entered  with  an  air 
of  apparent  indifference  and  abstraction,  while  secretly 
he  was  trembling  with  the  most  eager  curiosity  to  hear 
something  to  apprise  him  of  the  result  of  his  infernal 
contrivance ;  nor  did  he  have  to  wait  long  in  suspense. 
Tabby,  hearing  the  footsteps  of  her  master  on  the  floor, 
the  next  moment,  came  hurrying  from  the  pantry,  flour 
ishing  a  plate  in  one  hand  and  a  spoon  in  the  other,  in 
her  fluster,  and  broke  forth,  — 

"Don't  you  think  —  O,  don't  you  think,  Mr.  Hosmer, 
what  a  flare-up  we  have  had  here,  to  be  sure ! " 

"Why,  what  has  happened — what  has  happened, 
Tabby?"  asked  the  old  man,  in  affected  surprise  and 
alarm. 

"  Why,  a  woman  with  a  young  'un  come  in,  and  asked 
Lucy  for  money  to  buy  things  for  her  little  Lot,  she  said. 
But  Lucy  didn't  seem  to  hear  her  call  it  Lot,  for  she  went 
out  and  brought  and  gin  the  cretur  a  whole  half  dollar! 
(fore  I'd  done  that!)  and  asked,  in  a  kind  of  pitying 
way,  how  she  come  to  be  so  needy.  The  woman  an 
swered  she'd  been  misfortunit.  Lucy  then  told  her  she 
hoped  she'd  make  good  use  of  the  money,  and  asked  her 


220  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

what  her  child's  name  was ;  and  the  woman  blabbed  it 
right  out  afore  us  both  —  Lot  Fisher !  Lor !  how  beat 
Lucy  did  look,  to  be  sure !  But  she  soon  kinder  plucked 
up,  and  asked  the  woman  why  she  called  it  by  that  name. 
Well,  the  cretur  hung  her  head  a  little,  and  said  she  had 
got  good  reasons  for  it.  Jist  at  that  minit  I  looked  up, 
and  Lucy  was  as  white  as  a  cloth,  and  enymost  quite 
fainted  away.  So  I  made  a  spring  for  the  camphor 
bottle,  but  trod  on  the  dog's  tail,  who  up  and  bit  this 
little  finger  I  done  up  here  to  the  bone.  Well,  I  yelled, 
and  fainted  too,  I  do  s'pose,  clean  away  ;  for  whin  I  come 
to,  Lucy  had  got  over  it  enough  to  get  to  her  room  ;  and 
the  pesky  woman  and  all  had  cleared  out,  leaving  me," 
she  added  dolefully,  "  like  some  dead  lady,  laid  out  for 
the  cold  grave." 

"  That  all?"  said  the  old  man  contemptuously.  "  Poo! 
what  a  fuss!  and  all  kicked  up  by  finding  out  what 
every  body  but  Lucy  and  you  knew  before  about  the 
fellow  you  made  such  a  parade  for,  a  week  or  two  ago, 
here  at  tea." 

"Yes,  only  think!  But  if  I'd  knowed  it  then  —  fore 
I'd  touch  to  do  a  thing! "  replied  the  beauty,  shaking  her 
head,  with  clinched  teeth,  and  a  look  that  was  meant  to 
carry  out  the  sentence  more  forcibly  than  any  words  she 
could  find  for  expressing  it. 

"  Well,  but  about  Lucy,"  resumed  the  former ;  "  it 
hasn't  made  her  sick,  has  it?" 

"No,  s'pose  not;  but  —  " 

"  But  what  ?     Have  you  been  up  to  see  her  since  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  a  few  minits  ago,  to  tell  her  dinner  was  'bout 
ready,  and  kinder  talk  it  over  a  little ;  but  she  was  in  a 
taking  still,  and  said  she  shouldn't  want  any  dinner*.  Fore 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  221 

I'd  cry  to  be  obleeged  to  give  up  such  a  fellow ! "  she 
added,  as  she  left  the  room  to  resume  her  work. 

"  It  has  pretty  much  done  the  business,  I  guess,"  mut 
tered  Old  Jude  to  himself,  with  a  lip  curling  with  inward 
exultation  ;  "  and  the  stories  which  she  will  now  soon 
hear,  to  confirm  the  impression  that  has  evidently  been 
made,  will  give  the  finishing  blow." 

And  the  old  man  was  not  mistaken.  While  the  heart- 
stricken  Lucy  was  striving  to  hope,  against  conviction, 
that  the  inference  the  woman's  words  and  conduct  had 
compelled  her  to  draw  did  not  apply  to  her  lover,  the 
village  gossips  one  after  another  dropped  in,  full  of  mys 
terious  hints  concerning  a  certain  discovery  they  had  just 
made,  which  they  would  not,  at  first,  for  the  world  tell 
Mr.  Hosmer's  family,  but  which  they  finally  did  tell,  with 
many  regrets  that  Miss  Lucy  did  not  feel  well  enough  to 
appear,  that  they  might  console  her  in  her  grief  and  dis 
appointment.  These  communications  all,  in  some  shape 
or  other,  making  established  facts  of  what  was  before  a 
matter  of  inference,  continued  to  be  repeated  to  Lucy, 
by  the  officious  Tabby,  till  the  former  supposed  there 
could  no  longer  be  a  doubt  about  the  former  disgraceful 
conduct  of  her  lover;  and,  though  ready  to  sink  with 
grief  and  mortification,  she  soon  was  enabled  to  summon 
the  stern  resolution  to  tear  his  image  from  her  heart,  and 
have  no  further  communication  with  him  forever. 

O  ye  who  tamper  with  the  loves  of  united  hearts,  es 
pecially  those  of  the  softer  sex,  who,  with  keener  sensi 
bilities  to  cause  suffering,  are  more  helplessly  your  vic 
tims,  the  terms  brute  and  fiend  are  appellations  too  mild 
for  your  deserts!  Your  offences  may  not,  indeed,  be 
punishable  under  any  human  code ;  but  so  long  as  your 
19* 


222  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

ju-ts  implant  wounds  in  the  heart,  to  which  the  blows 
of  the  steel  dagger  were  a  mercy,  your  doom  in  another 
world  will  be  that  of  the  assassin  and  murderer ! 

"  I  now  stand  on  firm  ground,  at  last,"  said  Old  Jude 
to  himself,  as  he  retired  to  bed  that  night,  under  the  full 
persuasion  that,  by  his  last  cruel  and  contemptible  trick, 
he  had  brought  his  whole  plan  of  operations  to  a  suc 
cessful  close,  and  might  now  bid  defiance  to  every  threat 
ened  danger.  But  the  memorable  saying  of  the  apostolic 
philosopher,  "  He  that  thinketh  he  standeth  let  him  take 
heed  lest  he  fall,"  is  generally  no  less  applicable  to  our 
temporal  than  spiritual  condition.  The  old  man's  guid 
ing  maxim  had  always  been,  Steer  clear  of  the  laiv,  and 
seize  every  advantage.  When,  therefore,  he  had  shielded 
himself  against  its  meshes,  as  his  cunning  and  experience 
had  generally  enabled  him  to  do,  it  never  seemed  to  have 
entered  into  his  calculations  that  any  other  power  or  cir 
cumstance  conld  affect  him.  And  the  occurrence,  con 
sequently,  by  which  he  had  been  so  startled  a  few  nights 
before,  and  by  the  less  questionable  repetition  of  which 
he  was  destined  now  again  to  be  humbled,  and  soon  to 
be  overthrown,  found  him  wholly  unprepared  and  help 
less,  it  being  something  against  which  his  system  of  tac 
tics  had  made  no  provision. 

About  midnight  the  same  unearthly  groan,  which  he 
had  heard  before,  struck  on  his  slumbering  senses,  and 
instantly  aroused  him  to  consciousness. 

"  Just  as  I  feared  —  that  voice  again  !  "  hurriedly  mum 
bled  the  old  man,  in  troubled  accents,  as  he  sprang  up  in 
bed,  and,  with  a  beating  heart,  awaited  the  expected  rep 
etition.  The  sound,  however,  was  not  repeated ;  but,  in 
stead  of  it,  a  tall  figure,  in  white,  seemingly  rising  slowly 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

through  the  floor,  and  standing  in  frightful  outline  before 
him,  greeted  his  appalled  vision,  and  rooted  him,  speech 
less  and  spell-bound,  to  the  spot.  After  remaining  sta 
tionary  a  moment,  looking  down  upon  him,  as  the  guilty 
old  man  conceived,  with  a  look  of  mingled  sorrow  and 
indignation,  the  figure  raised  one  of  its  shrouded  arms 
and  silently  and  solemnly  pointed  upwards  ;  then,  slowly 
receding,  it  passed  through  the  open  door  and  disappeared. 

Old  Jude  had  not  been  much  of  a  believer  in  ghosts, 
and,  but  for  his  guilty  conscience,  he  would  not,  prob 
ably,  have  lost  his  self-possession.  And,  even  as  it  was, 
when  he  saw  the  apparently  tangible  object  retreating 
through  the  door,  a  gleam  of  hope  shot  through  his  mind 
that  it  might  be  a  personage  of  flesh  and  blood  ;  and  the 
relieving  thought  so  far  restored  his  prostrate  spirit  and 
strength  that  he  soon  found  voice  to  cry  for  help. 

"  Shack  !  Shack  !  Shack  !  "  he  screamed,  with  desper 
ate  energy. 

But  he  was  answered  only  by  the  echo  of  his  own 
husky  voice.  No  response  came  from  the  room  of  the 
sleeping  servant.  The  old  man  then  mustered  courage 
enough  to  scramble  off  the  bed  and  run  round  to  Shack's 
room  ;  when,  finding  the  latter  snoring  loudly,  he  seized 
him  by  the  shoulder  and  shook  him  rudely,  while,  with 
chattering  teeth,  he  exclaimed, — 

"Shack!  Shack!  did  you  hear  it?  did  you  see  it, 
Shack?" 

"  Urn  ?     What  ?  —  wha  —  wha  —  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  The  shape  —  that  is,  I  mean  the  man,  or  something 
that  has  been  in  my  room,  and  has  just  gone  out?" 

"  Um  ?  Was  there  one  ?  My  gorry  !  I  wish  I  had  a 
club.  But  I  ain't  afraid ;  we'll  go  down  and  light  a  can 
dle,  and  then  I'll  help  you  catch  him.1' 


224  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

So  saying,  Shack  hastily  slipped  on  his  pantaloons, 
and,  followed  by  the  old  man,  hurried  down  stairs  and 
struck  a  light;  when  they  both  went  over  the  whole 
house,  but  found  every  door  and  window  fastened,  while 
no  indications  of  housebreakers  were  any  where  discov 
erable,  within  or  without.  Long  before  this  was  accom 
plished,  the  alarmed  females  were  dressed  and  out  to 
ascertain  what  was  the  matter.  Old  Jude  tried  hard  to 
allay  their  fears,  and  quiet  the  tumult  he  had  occasioned, 
by  attributing  the  cause  of  his  disturbance  —  if,  in  fact, 
he  was  not  wholly  mistaken  in  supposing  he  heard  or  saw 
something  —  to  the  jumping  of  a  rat  or  the  cat;  but  his 
restless  and  excited  manner  wholly  belied  his  assertions, 
and  only  increased  their  apprehensions.  He,  however, 
was  quite  willing  to  have  a  light  kept  burning  in  his  own 
and  each  of  their  rooms  during  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  and  that  Shack  should  walk  the  halls  as  a  watch. 
The  next  morning,  the  old  man  charged  the  family  to 
keep  secret  every  thing  which  had  happened.  But  not 
withstanding  all  his  precautions,  the  whole  village  had 
the  story  before  night,  that  the  house  was  haunted,  and 
Old  Jude  had  seen  a  ghost,  and  strange  and  various  were 
the  comments  that  were  made  on  the  occasion. 

During  that  day  the  old  man  struggled  hard,  but  in 
vain,  to  banish  this  strange  and  more  strangely  repeated 
visitation  from  his  mind.  Sometimes  he  would  almost 
convince  himself,  that  it  was  some  person  whose  design 
was  either  to  rob  or  to  frighten  him.  But  the  question 
which  he  could  not  answer,  constantly  arose  —  How  did 
he  get  into  the  house?  If  robbery  was  the  object,  why 
did  he  not  effect  it,  and  steal  off  in  silence,  instead  of 
making  a  noise  and  showing  himself?  And  what  object 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  225 

could  any  one  have  in  merely  frightening  him,  without 
making  known  any  wish  or  demand  ?  Thus  he  was  met 
in  every  attempt  to  solve  the  mystery  on  natural  princi 
ples ;  which  his  conscience  failing  not  to  remind  him, 
that  each  of  these  visitations  followed  a  heinous  wrong 
towards  his  niece,  —  the  first  the  finishing  act  of  his 
fraud  on  her  property,  and  the  last  his  attempt  on  her 
happiness,  —  his  guilty  conscience  whispered,  "Thou 
knowest,"  and  completed  his  confusion.  And  yet  he 
determined  to  yield  not  to  its  promptings. 

"  Folly  ! "  he  would  exclaim,  "  to  think  a  man  who  has 
been  dead  ten  years  can  come  up  to  upbraid  the  living! 
A  ghost !  what  is  a  ghost  ?  The  mere  thing  of  the  im 
agination,  which  cannot  be  seen  by  the  natural  eye. 
Bat  this  I  did  see  with  my  natural  eyes ;  and  it  must  be 
something  real  —  something  tangible  ;  and  whether  I 
can  tell  how  it  came  there  or  not,  it  must  be  something 
that  I  can  exclude  from  my  room,  and  I  will  do  it!" 

Taking  courage  from  this  view  of  the  subject,  he  be 
gan  to  contrive  how  he  could  best  secure  his  room 
against  the  further  intrusion  of  the  dreaded  apparition. 
And,  with  this  object  in  view,  he  went  up  to  his  garret, 
and  overhauled  a  parcel  of  old  hardware  and  cutlery,  left 
on  hand  when  he.  quitted  trade.  Here  he  found  a  door 
lock  of  unusual  size  and  strength  ;  and  he  instantly  re 
solved  to  fit  it  to  the  door  of  his  sleeping-room.  Ac 
cordingly,  selecting  corresponding  screws  and  staples,, 
and  providing  himself  with  suitable  tools,  he  proceeded 
to  his  room,  and  went  to  work. 

"There!  "said  he,  with  a  sort  of  gleeful  but  forced 
bravado,  as  he  completed  the  adjustment  of  the  massive- 
implement,  and  brought  the  rusty  bolt  to  play  in  its 


226  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

place  —  "there,  let  me  turn  this  key,  thus,  on  the  inside 
here,  when  I  go  to  bed,  and  I  will  defy  the  devil  him 
self  to  get  in!" 

But  although  Old  Jude  had  in  this  manner  succeeded 
in  fortifying  his  feelings,  in  some  measure,  against  the 
contingencies  of  the  night,  yet  it  was  not  without  many 
fears  and  forebodings  that  he  retired  to  his  chamber. 
He  would  gladly  have  had  Shack,  or  some  other  one, 
sleep  in  his  room  ;  but  his  fears  that  the  ghost,  or  what 
ever  it  was  that  had  appeared  to  him,  might  communi 
cate  his  guilty  secret,  were  so  strong  as  to  overcome  his 
desire  to  be  attended  ;  and  he  therefore  resolved  to  trust 
to  his  precautions,  and  once  more  nerve  himself  to  brave 
the  result  alone.  Accordingly,  after  turning  the  key  of 
his  ponderous  lock,  and  carefully  examining  the  fasten 
ings  of  the  windows,  and  inspecting  every  part  of  his 
room,  even  under  his  bed,  he  trimmed  his  lamp  to  burn 
through  night,  and  went  to  bed,  when,  favored  by  his 
exhaustion  and  loss  of  sJeep  the  previous  night,  his 
troubled  spirit  was  soon  wrapped  in  forgetfulness. 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  227 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  last  strokes  of  the  house  clock,  telling  the  solemn 
hour  of  midnight,  awoke  the  old  man  from  his  uneasy 
slumbers.  The  lamp  had  gone  out,  and  all  was  dark 
and  silent.  In  a  moment,  however,  the  same  prolonged, 
sepulchral  groan,  that  heralded  the  apparition  of  the  pre 
ceding  night,  resounded  through  the  room  ;  and  the  next 
instant,  the  same  fearful  figure  was  dimly  seen  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  looking  grimly  down  on  its 
affrighted  victim. 

"  Obdurate  mortal ! "  it  at  length  said,  in  low,  deep 
accents,  "thinkest  thou  to  elude  the  spirit  thy  mis 
deeds  have  called  up,  by  guarding  thyself  with  bolts  and 
doors?  Twice  hast  thou  disregarded  my  coming  — 
now  I  am  permitted  to  speak  to  thee,  and  utter  my  last 
warning.  Know,  then,  guilty  wretch,  that  yet  forty  days 
are  allowed  thee  to  cause  the  wrong  to  be  righted — the 
stricken  heart  to  be  restored  to  happiness.  Heed  the 
condition  of  mercy,  else  I  then  come  again  to  take  thee 
hence!" 

The  apparition  then  gradually  fell  back  towards  the 
door,  the  grating  bolt  flew  back,  the  door  opened,  and  the 
figure  vanished  in  the  entrance,  leaving  the  old  man 
sitting  mute  on  the  bed,  with  his  eyes  starting  from  their 
sockets,  his  hair  bristling  up  on  his  head,  and  his  hands 
desperately  clutching  the  bedclothes,  in  the  overpower 
ing  fear  that  had  seized  him  ;  nor  did  the  disappearance 


228  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

of  the  dreadful  object  this  time  bring  the  accustomed 
relief.  His  spirit,  at  the  thought  of  what  he  had  seen 
and  heard,  died  within  him,  his  strength  was  gone,  and 
for  some  time  all  power  of  utterance  was  denied  him. 
After  a  while,  however,  feeble  and  distressed  cries  began 
to  break  from  his  lips,  and  he  shrieked  out  the  names  of 
his  servant  and  the  other  members  of  the  family  by  turns. 
But  all  slept  too  soundly,  or  were  too  far  distant  to  hear 
him.  And  the  poor  wretch  was  compelled  to  remain  alone, 
sprawling  helplessly  on  his  bed,  and  moaning  in  his  fear 
and  distress,  or  crying  in  vain  for  help,  till  the  long  and 
•eagerly  desired  morning  light  appeared,  and  ended  his 
night  of  horrors. 

Shack  was  the  first  one  to  discover  the  situation  of  his 
master.  As  the  former  rose,  and  came  out  from  his 
bed-room,  his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  sounds  of 
moans  and  deep  sighs,  coming  from  the  apartment  of 
the  latter ;  and  he  at  once  turned  in  that  direction,  and 
perceiving  the  door  standing  open,  concluded  he  would 
go  in  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  But  he  stopped  short 
at  the  very  entrance,  in  surprise  and  alarm,  at  the  spec 
tacle  that  there  met  his  eyes.  The  old  man  sat  crouch 
ing  on  the  bed,  amidst  the  deranged  and  twisted  bed 
clothes,  with  a  cold  sweat  standing  in  drops  on  his  hag 
gard  face,  and  with  a  countenance  exhibiting  the  very 
picture  of  misery  and  despair.  His  grizzled  hair,  during 
the  night,  had  changed  to  milky  whiteness,  his  strained 
eyeballs  were  bloodshot,  his  cheeks  sunken,  and  his 
whole  appearance,  indeed,  so  altered,  that  his  servant  in 
any  other  place  would  have  scarcely  recognized  him. 

"  O  Shack ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  piteously. 

"What  is  the   matter,    Mr.  Hosmer?   what  has    hap- 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  229 

pened?"  asked  the  other,  in  evident  concern,  as  he  ap 
proached  the  bedside. 

The  old  man  made  no  reply,  but  attempted  to  adjust 
the  bedclothes  around  him. 

"  Master  is  sick,"  resumed  Shack,  after  awaiting  a  mo 
ment  for  an  answer. 

"  Shan't  I  call  the  folks  up,  and  then  go  for  the  doc 
tor?" 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  old  man,  feebly,  resuming  his 
wonted  caution,  and  making  an  effort  to  arouse  himself, 
"  no,  don't  do  it,  nor  ask  any  questions,  nor  say  any  thing 
to  any  body  about  what  you  have  seen.  I  have  had  a 
bad  night,  But  shall  be  better  soon.  Help  me  on  with 
my  clothes,  that  I  may  get  out  of  this  accursed  room." 

Shack  then  assisted  him  to  dress,  supported  him  down 
stairs,  and  placed  him  in  an  arm-chair,  in  the  common 
sitting-room,  where  the  family  soon  assembled  around 
him,  with  manifestations  of  wonder  and  alarm  at  his 
strangely  altered  appearance.  He,  however,  carefully 
concealed  from  them  the  true  cause  of  his  condition,  and 
pretending  to  attribute  all  to  a  sudden  fit  of  illness,  of 
which  he  was  now  better,  sunk  into  his  usual  reserve. 
But  common  observation  taught  them,  that  something 
extraordinary  had  happened  to  him,  and  his  appearance 
through  the  day,  during  which  he  continued  feeble,  ner 
vous  and  dejected,  confirmed  their  opinion,  and  convinced 
all  who  saw  him,  that,  in  some  mysterious  way,  the  old 
man  had  received  a  shock,  both  in  body  and  mind,  from 
which  he  would  not  speedily  recover.  And  they  were 
right  in  their  conjectures  —  from  that  night  Old  Jude 
Hosmer  was  an  altered  man.  The  impossibility  that  his 
door  could  have  been  unlocked  by  any  one  from  the 
20 


230  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

outside,  and  the  equal  impossibility,  he  conceived,  after 
his  close  examination  of  his  room,  that  aught  of  flesh 
and  blood  could  have  got  there  in  any  other  way,  had, 
from  the  first  sight  of  the  apparition,  destroyed  all  his 
hopes  that  his  nocturnal  visitant  might  be  an  earthly 
one ;  and  yielding  to  the  dreadful  thought  which,  in  spite 
of  the  warnings  of  conscience,  he  had  twice  rejected,  that 
his  monitor  was  the  shade  of  an  injured  brother  from  the 
grave,  he  listened  to  the  supernatural  message  as  to  a 
doom  that  was  neither  to  be  questioned  nor  avoided. 

"  All  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life."  Old 
Jude  Hosmer,  as  well  he  might  be,  was  always  afraid  to 
die ;  and  as  he  had  gone  on  increasing  in  years  and 
crimes,  the  fear  of  death  had  been  sinking  deeper  and 
deeper  in  his  heart.  From  the  first  of  his  three  fearful 
warnings,  Conscience,  as  before  intimated,  had  secretly 
interpreted  the  Mene  Tekel  of  the  mystery  to  mean  the 
relinquishment  of  his  ill-gotten  possessions  to  the  right 
ful  owner;  but  he  had  tried  hard  to  blind  himself  to  the 
interpretation,  and  struggled  fearfully  to  avoid  the  sacri 
fice.  Now,  however,  when  he  had  at  last  been  smitten 
and  humbled  to  the  dust,  in  view  of  the  dreadful  alter 
native  which  was  placed  before  him,  and  which  he  was 
made  to  feel  there  was  no  way  of  escaping,  every  motive 
and  feeling,  even  the  great  ruling  passion  of  his  life,  gave 
way  before  this  controlling  terror ;  and,  goaded  by  his 
fears  rather  than  any  sincere  penitence,  he  now,  although 
he  neither  received  nor  looked  for  any  further  visitations 
at  present  from  his  supernatural  monitor,  he  now,  every 
day  and  hour,  grew  more  and  more  anxious  to  fulfil  the 
condition  which  alone  could  relieve  him  from  his  agoniz 
ing  apprehensions  of  the  menaced  doom. 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

-  As  soon,  therefore,  as  his  strength  and  the  shattered 
condition  of  his  nerves  would  permit,  which  was  not 
until  several  days  had  elapsed,  he  commenced  in  earnest 
the  work  of  unravelling  the  web  of  iniquity  which  had 
cost  him  so  much  time  and  plotting  to  weave.  And,  as 
the  first  step,  he  sought  out  his  niece  when  alone,  and 
gave  up  to  her  the  acquittance  he  had  obtained  from  her 
in  the  manner  before  described,  merely  telling  her  he  had 
discovered  an  error  in  his  reckoning  much  in  her  favor, 
which,  as  he  had  concluded  to  make  a  new  arrangement 
of  his  affairs,  would  now  soon  be  adjusted  to  her  satis 
faction. 

With  this  deceptive  announcement  —  for  he  could  not 
be  frank,  even  in  good  work  —  he  left  her,  greatly  sur 
prised,  as  well  as  puzzled  to  comprehend  the  true  reason 
(the  alleged  one  not  being  fully  credited  by  her)  of  tj^ 
unexpected  act,  though  she  could  not  help  believing  it  in 
some  way  connected  with  the  late  mysterious  occurrences 
which  had  so  much  disturbed  him.  Having  effected  this 
first,  and,  as  he  conceived,  the  most  important  step,  in 
righting  the  wronged  one,  without  any  exposure  of  his 
former  wickedness,  which  he  seemed  nearly  as  anxious 
as  ever  to  conceal,  his  mind  became  a  little  more  tran 
quil  ;  for  the  papers  having  always  been  carefully  kept 
in  his  own  hands,  he  could  now  complete  the  restoration 
of  the  embezzled  property,  by  transfers  and  conveyances, 
very  easily  and  with  all  the  secrecy  he  desired.  But 
though  he  could  thus  easily  restore  the  'wronged  one  to 
her  rights  of  property,  yet  there  was  another  part  of  the 
requirement  —  that  of  restoring  her  to  the  happiness  he 
had  destroyed  —  which  he  had  more  difficulty  in  decid 
ing  how  to  perform.  He  believed  that  Lacy  would  hold 


232  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

no  communications  with  her  lover,  even  if  she  was  re 
quested,  so  long  as  she  was  under  her  present  impres 
sions  ;  and  he  could  think  of  no  way  of  removing  those 
impressions  from  her  mind  without  confessing,  or  at  least 
betraying,  his  own  agency  in  causing  them.  This  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  do.  And  in  the  dilemma,  he 
soon  resolved  that,  without  consulting  her  at  all  on  the 
subject,  he  would  himself  write  directly  to  Fisher  such  a 
letter  as  would  naturally  bring  him  to  the  house,  trusting 
that,  when  the  lovers  were  brought  together,  explanations 
would  follow,  and  a  reconciliation  soon  be  effected.  Ac 
cordingly,  he  wrote  a  respectful  note  to  the  young  man, 
apologizing  for  his  late  treatment,  which  arose,  he  falsely 
affirmed,  wholly  out  of  a  misapprehension  of  the  char 
acter  of  the  other,  who,  now  that  all  objection  was  re 
moved,  was  at  full  liberty  to  resume  his  visits.  Having 
thus  written,  Old  Jude  secretly  despatched  the  letter  to 
its  destination,  and  awaited  the  result  with  as  much 
trembling  solicitude  as  he  ever  did  the  event  of  a  lawsuit 
in  which  he  had  thousands  at  stake. 

Lot,  in  the  mean  while,  totally  ignorant  of  all  that  had 
occurred  at  Hosmer's,  began  to  grow  very  uneasy  at  the 
failure  of  his  accustomed  letters  from  Lucy,  from  whom 
he  had  not  received  a  syllable  for  nearly  a  fortnight;  and 
he  was  meditating  a  trip  to  the  village  of  her  residence, 
to  ascertain,  if  possible,  whether  any  thing  had  there  hap 
pened  to  cause  the  delinquency,  when,  one  morning,  the 
newspaper  carrier,  w7ho  had  returned  from  that  section 
late  the  evening  before,  handed  him  a  double-sealed  let 
ter.  Not  remembering  the  handwriting,  and  supposing 
it  some  message  on  professional  matters,  he  threw  it  by, 
to  be  taken  up  in  the  order  of  business.  In  the  course 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST.  233 

of  the  forenoon,  however,  it  came  up ;  when,  carelessly 
breaking  the  seals,  he  read  and  reread,  with  feelings  of 
mingled  astonishment  and  doubtfully-admitted  delight 
the  unexpected  contents.  In  twenty  minutes  his  fle*. 
footed  pony  stood  saddled  and  pawing  at  his  door,  while 
the  master  was  seen  within  hastily  plying  his  brushes  on 
coat,  hat,  and  boots,  which,  it  seemed  to  him  in  his  impa 
tience,  were  never  before  so  reluctant  of  polish.  Within 
three  hours  more  he  dismounted  his  reeking  horse  at  the 
office  door  of  his  old  friend  and  patron. 

"Do  you  own  that  horse,  Lot?"  asked  Stacy,  poking 
his  sarcastic  phiz  from  the  window. 

«  Yes  —  how  do  you  do  ?  " 

a  Well  —  but  if  the  beast  is  your  own,  who,  in  your 
village,  lies  at  the  point  of  death,  whom  it  is  supposed 
one  of  our  doctors  can  save  ?  " 

"  Do  be  serious,  squire,"  said  Lot,  now  entering  the 
office.  "  I  have  called  to  consult  you  before  going  some 
where  else.  There,"  he  added,  taking  out  and  handing 
the  other  Old  Jude's  letter,  "  read  that,  and  tell  me  wheth 
er  it  is  genuine ;  and  if  so,  what  has  produced  the  unex 
pected  change." 

"  Genuine  enough,"  answered  Stacy,  after  musing  over 
the  letter  a  few  moments.  "  It  is  his,  clearly ;  and  I 
rather  guess,  under  the  circumstances,  he  is  acting  in 
earnest  and  without  trick,  this  time." 

«  Why,  what  hold  have  'you  got  of  him  ?  "  asked  Lot, 
eagerly  ;  "  done  any  thing  by  way  of  legal  proceedings  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  other,  "nothing  at  all,  since  I 
saw  you.    I  have  been  worsted  by  the  old  fox,  who  doubt 
less  overheard  our  conversation  from  the  back  window 
there;  completely  worsted  at  every  point;  and,  to  crown 
20* 


234  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

all,  he  has  settled  off  with  Lucy,  already  of  age,  I  find, 
and  coaxed  her  to  give  him  a  strong  and  absolute  dis 
charge,  on  his  giving  her  his  note  for  the  paltry  sum  of 
two  or  three  hundred  dollars ;  and  even  thaj^payable  in 
cats  and  dogs.  Old  Jude  all  over !  " 

"  Outrageous !  but  has  he  contented  himself  with 
doing  that  ?  Lucy  has  discontinued  her  letters  to  me 
wholly,  and  without  explanation;  and  yet  I  receive  this 
letter  from  him  inviting  me  to  resume  my  visits  !  What 
can  it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  I  won't  decide  now ;  but  something  unusual  has  cer 
tainly  happened  over  there.  It  is  reported  in  town  that 
the  old  man  has  been  haunted  by  a  ghost.  Some  say  — 
among  whom  is  our  good  old  deacon,  who  has  visited 
him  —  that  he  has  been  converted,  or  is  about  to  be; 
others  have  it,  that  he  has  had  fits  ;  and  all  agree  that 
he  is  feeble,  and  has  grown  old,  in  appearance,  ten  years 
within  the  last  week." 

"This  sounds  very  strangely;  what  is  your  version  ?  " 

"  I  have  none  to  give  you ;  I  am  waiting  myself  to 
see  what  it  will  result  in.  But  there  is  probably  a  relent 
ing  in  the  old  man  towards  you,  Lot ;  and  I  would  go 
and  improve  the  advantage  he  has  given  you  to  the 
utmost,  lest  it  prove,  as  I  fear,  a  temporary  one." 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  235 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THAT  afternoon  Old  Jude,  who  had  contrived  to  have 
his  niece  take  a  seat  with  him  in  the  parlor,  sat  for  hours 
at  the  window,  anxiously  gazing  down  the  road,  as  if  on 
the  watch  for  some  expected  visitor.  At  length  his  coun 
tenance  brightened.  A  person,  who  was  evidently  the 
object  of  his  solicitude,  was  seen  approaching ;  when, 
after  watching  him  till  he  turned  in  towards  the  house, 
the  old  man,  without  apprising  his  companion  of  the 
fact,  rose,  and  quietly  stole  out  of  the  room.  The  next 
moment  Lucy  looked  up,  and  Lot  Fisher  stood  on  the 
threshold  before  her.  Surprise  and  embarrassment  kept 
her  mute  till  the  other  spoke. 

"  I  hardly  know  whether  I  was  expected  by  you^  Miss 
Hosmer,  to-day,  or  not,"  he  said,  with  some  hesitation. 

"  You  were  not,  sir,"  she  replied,  with  reserve. 

"  It  may  be  right,  then,  to  show  you  my  warrant  for 
appearing  before  you,"  he  rejoined,  approaching,  and 
handing  her  Old  Jude's  letter. 

With  a  tremulous  hand  she  took  the  letter,  and,  though 
she  evidently  read  its  contents  with  the  deepest  surprise, 
yet  she  merely  remarked,  — 

"  This,  as  regards  my  uncle,  is  certainly  sufficient ;  and 
I  will  go  and  apprise  him,  sir,  that  you  have  called." 

«  Miss  Hosmer ! " 

"Sir!" 

"  Both   the  discontinuance  of  your  letters  and  vour 


236  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

present  manner  make  it  evident  that  you  have  heard 
something  to  affect  the  position  which  I  supposed  I  oc 
cupied  in  your  esteem.  In  mercy  and  in  justice  to  me, 
will  you  not  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

The  same  delicacy  which  had  before  prevented  Miss 
Hosmer  from  communicating  to  her  lover  the  reasons 
that  had  decided  her  to  drop  her  correspondence  and 
reject  him  still  strongly  revolted  against  the  solicited 
explanation.  But  her  sense  of  justice,  under  his  re 
newed  and  earnest  entreaties,  at  length  prevailed;  and 
she  reluctantly  related  all  the  essential  circumstances 
connected  with  the  vagrant  woman's  call  at  the  house, 
as  they  took  place,  simply  adding  that  no  one  could 
be  at  loss  in  drawing  the  inference  which  so  obviously 
followed. 

Lot  was  thunderstruck  at  a  disclosure  so  strange  and 
unexpected ;  but,  soon  rallying  from  his  surprise,  he 
asked  if  it  was  known  where  the  woman  could  then 
be  found ;  and,  being  answered  in  the  negative,  he,  with 
an  air  of  disappointment,  resumed, — 

"  O,  why  could  you  not  have  communicated  this  to 
me  immediately,  that  I  might  have  had  the  chance, 
which  is  probably  now  lost,  of  refuting  the  insinuation 
from  the  woman's  own  lips  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  done  so,  as  a  matter  of  form," 
replied  she,  greatly  embarrassed  ;  "  perhaps  I  should  have 
done  so,  or  have  concluded  my  construction  a  wrong  one, 
and  let  the  affair  pass  unnoticed,  had  not  my  impression 
been  confirmed  by  the  same  story,  or  those  of  a  similar 
character,  coming  from  several  other  sources." 

"  If  Miss  Hosmer's  confidence  in  my  character  was  so 
small  as  to  permit  her  to  condemn  me,  unheard,  on  such 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  237 

evidence,"  rejoined  Lot,  with  an  air  of  deep  mortification 
not  unmingled  with  offended  pride,  "  I  know  not  that  it 
would  now  avail  me,  if  I  felt  myself  called  to  the  humili 
ating  task  to  trace  out  the  slanders  which  this  worthless 
vagrant,  or  others,  may  have  disseminated  concerning  me. 
I  had  hoped  I  had  a  standing  in  her  opinion  not  so  easily 
to  be  shaken.  As  it  is,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  bid  her 
farewell." 

Before  the  confused  and  now  relenting  girl  could  find 
words  to  delay  her  impetuous  lover,  or  qualify  the  sen 
tence  he  had  so  hastily  assumed  against  himself,  he  had 
bowed  and  was  gone.  Feeling  herself  justly  obnoxious 
to  her  lover's  charge  of  precipitancy  in  condemning  him 
unheard,  and  half  convinced  of  his  innocence,  though  he 
had  scarcely  affirmed  it,  she  rose  in  great  agitation,  and 
went  to  the  window.  With  sensations  which  it  would 
be  difficult  to  analyze,  she  saw  him  hurriedly  mount  his 
horse  at  the  gate,  and  depart  without  one  backward 
glance  towards  her.  Her  riveted  eyes  followed  him,  as, 
avoiding  the  village,  he  rode  with  desperate  speed  towards 
home,  till  his  receding  form  was  lost  to  view ;  when  she 
turned,  and  murmuring,  with  a  sigh,  "  O,  why  could  he 
have  not  said  he  was  innocent ! "  burst  into  tears,  and 
hurried  to  her  apartment. 

Old  Jude,  who  had  witnessed  Lot's  hasty  departure  — 
from  which  he  argued  that  no  reconciliation  could  have 
taken  place  —  watched  anxiously,  but  in  vain,  during  the 
remainder  of  the  evening,  for  Lucy's  appearance,  that  he 
might  question  her  respecting  the  result  of  the  interview. 
And,  after  a  night  made  restless  by  his  growing  anxieties 
on  the  subject,  he  seized  the  first  opportunity,  the  next 
morning,  for  a  private  conversation  with  her.  Female 


238  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

pride,  by  this  time,  had  come  to  the  perplexed  and  wretch 
ed  girl's  aid ;  and  it  was  with  feelings  bordering  on  re 
sentment  towards  her  lover,  for  not  longer  persevering  in 
clearing  himself  and  reconciling  her,  that  she  replied  to 
her  uncle's  inquiries.  And  this  wayward  mood,  partly 
felt,  but  more  assumed  to  conceal  the  deep  and  troubled 
feelings  of  her  heart,  caused  her  so  to  color  her  represen 
tations,  and  to  make  the  case  so  hopeless  of  reconcilia 
tion  on  her  part,  that  the  old  man  became  greatly  alarmed 
for  the  eventual  result.  Indeed,  he  actually  shed  childish 
tears  of  vexation  and  disappointment,  and  accused  her 
of  perverseness.  Disturbed  and  astonished  beyond  meas 
ure  at  her  uncle's  conduct,  which  had  all  along  appeared 
to  her  very  extraordinary,  and  which  had  now  become 
wholly  inexplicable,  Lucy,  in  her  turn,  was  aroused  to 
expostulation  at  his  inconsistency,  while  she  defended 
herself  by  intimating  the  stories  she  had  heard.  The  old 
man  admitted  the  existence  of  such  rumors,  and  falsely 
attributed  his  former  opposition  to  his  belief  in  them,  but 
asserted  that  he  now  knew  them  to  be  without  founda 
tion.  Growing  more  and  more  excited  and  earnest,  the 
maiden  bent  a  searching  look  on  the  other,  and  demand 
ed  of  him  whether  he  knew  the  origin  of  those  stories, 
and  by  what  means  he  had  discovered  them  to  be  false, 
at  the  same  time  declaring  that  she  would  not  marry  a 
prince  whose  character  stood  under  such  imputations. 
The  other  made  several  attempts  to  evade  those  ques 
tions  ;  but  she  constantly  brought  him  back  to  the  point, 
and  persisted  with  so  much  determination  that  the  con 
versation  was  at  length  brought  to  a  dead  stand.  Con 
scious  that  he  had  srone  too  far  to  recede  without  arous- 

o 

ing  her  suspicions,  and  perceiving  he  could  not  even  stop 


THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 


239 


where  he  was  and  gain  any  credit  for  his  assertions,  the 
humbled  old  man,  impelled  by  his  fears  and  anxieties  for 
the  event,  reluctantly  admitted  himself  to  have  been  the 
cause  of  all  the  trouble,  though  not  without  much  pre 
varication  and  concealment  of  the  motives  which  had 
actuated  him. 

For  the  first  time,  the  mind  of  the  disabused  girl  began 
to  catch  glimpses  of  the  secret  history  of  the  old  man's 
heart  in  all  the  recent  transactions  in  which  her  different 
interests  had  been  involved  ;  and  her  grieved  soul  revolted 
at  the  dark  picture  she  there  saw  delineated.  That  part 
of  it  only,  however,  which  lay  nearest  her  heart  called 
forth  the  exclamation,— 

"  O  uncle,  uncle,  what  wretchedness  you  have  made 
rne !  what  injustice  you  have  caused  me  to  do  towards 
another!" 

The  conversation  which  now  ensued  w^as  brief  and 
mutually  embarrassing.  But  where  all  parties  are  equally 
anxious  to  bring  about  an  object,  their  purposes  are  soon 
accomplished.  In  the  course  of  the  forenoon,  Shack, 
mounted  on  Old  Jude's  fleetest  horse,  rode  up  to  the 
door,  and  taking  a  letter  from  the  hand  of  his  respected 
young  mistress,  bore  it  off  rapidly  towards  its  destination. 

Lot,  who  in  the  mean  time  had  condemned  himself  for 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  terminated  his  last  interview, 
which,  if  prolonged,  he  felt  might  have  resulted  more 
auspiciously,  and  who  now,  on  the  receipt  of  Miss  Hos- 
mer's  letter,  was  overjoyed  to  learn  that  her  mind  was 
completely  disabused  —  Lot,  we  say,  was  not  slow  to 
respond  to  the  frank  invitation  she  had  conveyed  him  to 
renew  their  intimacy ;  and  another  day  brought  him  to 
her  side. 


240  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

So  great  was  Old  Jude's  delight  to  see  the  man  whom, 
one  month  before,  he  had  driven  from  his  house  with 
insults  and  scorn,  now  again  there,  and  there,  too,  suc 
cessfully  prosecuting  the  very  object  he  had  taken  so 
much  pains  to  defeat,  that  it  would  have  been  difficult, 
perhaps,  to  decide  whether  he  or  the  reunited  lovers  were 
the  most  gratified  party  on  the  occasion.  But  the  old 
man  had  construed  the  supernatural  behest  to  extend,  not 
only  to  the  undoing  of  the  mischief  he  had  done  in  sep 
arating  the  lovers,  but  to  the  perfecting  of  their  union, 
which,  to  avail  him  in  purchasing  his  immunity  from  the 
threatened  doom,  he  felt  he  must  see  accomplished  within 
the  allotted  time  of  his  probation.  It  was  no  wonder, 
therefore,  that,  while  that  awful  warning  was  constantly 
sounding  in  his  ears,  and  while  the  days  of  that  fearful 
probation  were  rapidly  rolling  away,  he  was  filled  with 
anxiety  to  have  the  happy  event  consummated  with 
the  least  possible  delay.  And  no  sooner  had  the  long 
and  happy  interview  been  brought  to  a  close,  and  Lot 
seen  to  depart,  than  the  disquieted  old  man  again  sought 
out  his  niece  alone,  and  eagerly  asked  her  if  they  had 
fixed  on  a  day  for  the  wedding;  and  being  told  they  had 
not,  nor  even  agitated  the  question  of  the  time,  he  ap 
peared  much  disappointed,  and  earnestly  proposed  to  the 
wondering  girl  that  the  union  should  be  consummated 
immediately,  or  within  a  week  or  two  at  the  farthest; 
and  having  drawn  from  her  the  day  on  which  she  expect 
ed  Lot  to  repeat  his  visit,  he  expressed  great  solicitude 
that  the  time  should  then  be  appointed,  and  that,  too,  on 
as  early  a  day  as  would  be  consistent  with  the  ordinary 
arrangements  of  such  occasions.  But  Lucy's  delicacy 
shrunk  at  the  thought  of  such  indecent  haste,  and  such 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  241 

a  business-like  manner  of  disposing  of  her  even  to  the 
man  of  her  choice ;  and,  knowing  nothing  of  the  secret 
motives  that  urged  her  uncle,  whose  conduct  in  the  affair 
grew  more  and  more  inscrutable  to  her  mind,  she  inward 
ly  resolved  she  would  not  consent  to  so  immediate  a 
union,  and  least  of  all  would  she  be  the  first  to  hint  the 
matter  in  the  future  meetings  which  were  expected  to 
occur. 

Another  interview  between  the  lovers  soon  came  and 
passed  off  as  the  former  one ;  and  again  was  the  now 
almost  persecuted  girl  instantly  beset  and  importuned  by 
her  uncle  to  tell  him  what  had  been  done  in  compliance 
with  his  wishes.  When  he  was  informed  of  the  fruitless 
result,  he  absolutely  groaned  with  anguish,  and  seemed  so 
distressed  at  the  disappointment,  that  the  other,  touched 
and  disturbed  at  his  obvious  concern,  and  beginning  to 
suspect  he  must  have  something  of  moment  depending 
on  the  event,  at  length  promised  she  would  not  resist  any 
proposal  on  the  subject  which  should  come  from  her 
lover. 

Lot's  visits  now  became  frequent ;  and  cordially  meet 
ing  the  advances  which  he  perceived  Old  Jude  timidly 
attempting  to  make  towards  him,  he  soon,  and  with  a 
delighted  heart,  learnt  the  wishes  of  the  former  for  an 
immediate  union,  which  he  himself  through  delicacy  had 
forborne  to  urge.  The  ardent  lover,  as  will  readily  be 
imagined,  was  not  backward  to  act  on  the  hint  thus 
unexpectedly  received ;  and  he  united  his  entreaties  with 
those  of  his  new-found  coadjutor  with  such  effect,  that 
the  fair  girl  was  compelled  to  yield,  and  agree,  as  with 
blushful  hesitation  she  at  last  did,  to  the  great  relief  of 
the  old  man,  on  a  day  for  the  nuptial  ceremony  —  the 
21 


242  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

very  day,  as  it  ominously  happened,  which  closed  the 
mysterious  period  within  which  the  wronged  were  to  be 
righted,  or  the  wrong-doer  called  to  meet  his  doom. 

It  was  a  new  thing  to  the  wondering  inhabitants  of 
the  village  to  witness,  at  this  hitherto  dull  and  unsocial 
mansion,  the  lively  bustle  of  preparation  that  now  en 
sued  —  the  liberal  outlays  that  were  made  for  dresses  and 
ornaments  to  be  worn  on  the  coming  occasion,  and  for 
luxuries  for  the  entertainment  of  company  —  the  repairs 
and  garnishing  of  rooms  that  took  place,  and  the  pur 
chasing  of  costly  articles  to  take  the  place  of  the  former 
meagre  and  niggardly  furnishing  of  the  house  —  in  all 
which  the  different  inmates,  with  animated  movements 
and  smiling  faces,  were  seen  to  engage,  and  none  with 
more  alacrity  and  obviously  gratified  feeling  than  the 
lately  cold  and  churlish  but  now  transformed  master  and 
still  accounted  owner  of  the  establishment.  We  must 
linger  no  longer,  however,  to  give  a  detailed  description 
of  all  that  was  said  and  done  in  anticipation  of  the  happy 
event,  but  hasten  on  to  the  catastrophe  of  our  story, 
which  was  now  close  at  hand. 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  243 


CHAPTER    I  X. 

Ti  E  eventful  day  at  length  arrived.  The  numerous 
guests,  comprising  nearly  the  whole  adult  population  of 
the  place,  assembled  to  witness  the  ceremony,  which 
was  to  dispose  of  their  fair  and  almost  worshipped 
neighbor  to  one,  who,  in  spite  of  all  the  disadvantages 
attending  his  origin,  had  gained,  by  his  rare  qualities  of 
head  and  heart,  a  scarcely  less  enviable  place  in  their 
esteem.  Old  Jude,  who  had  awaited  the  day  with  a  fe 
verish  anxiety  and  impatience,  which  was  nearly  alike 
unaccountable  to  the  family  and  all  others  cognizant  of 
his  late  singular  conduct,  now  seemed  to  hail  the  hour 
of  consummation  with  almost  puerile  delight ;  though  it 
was  observed,  and  afterwards  remembered,  that  as  he 
moved  restlessly  round  among  the  company,  with  his  en 
feebled  gait,  and  thin,  pale,  and  ghastly  features  peering 
from  the  snow-white  locks,  which  hung  trembling  over 
them,  he  was  frequently  lost  in  deep  fits  of  abstraction, 
from  which  he  would  arouse  himself  with  a  forced  glee, 
and  that  a  sort  of  unnatural  excitement  marked  his  ap 
pearance  in  all  his  conversation  and  movements  on  the 
occasion.  At  the  appointed  hour,  the  bride  and  bride 
groom  made  their  appearance  ;  when,  amidst  the  bless 
ings  and  kind  wishes  of  all,  the  lovely  orphan  was  united 
with  her  handsome  and  gifted  lover.  The  ceremony 
and  the  congratulations  that  immediately  followed  were 
scarcely  over,  before  Old  Jude  came  forward  and  presented 


244  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

Lot  with  a  thick,  heavy  package  of  papers,  consisting, 
•as  he  averred,  and  as  in  truth  it  afterwards  appeared,  of 
•deeds,  transferred  notes,  and  other  legal  evidences  of  all 
the  property  to  which  Lucy  was  entitled,  accompanied 
Avith  a  written  statement  acknowledging  that  it  took  all 
he  possessed  to  make  good  her  fortune,  and  throwing 
himself  wholly  on  the  generosity  of  the  young  couple  for 
the  future  support  of  himself  and  family.  Lot  courte 
ously  received  the  package,  and  without  examining  it, 
•carelessly  placed  it  on  the  sill  of  the  open  window  beside 
whidh  he  \vas  sitting;  while  the  old  man, fetching  a  deep 
:sigh,  as  if  some  fearful  load  was  removed  from  his  mind, 
took  a  seat  by  the  side  of  his  niece,  and  appeared  more 
tranquil  and  happy  than  he  had  done  for  many  weeks 
before — a  circumstance  which  the  former  noticed  with 
heartfelt  pleasure,  and  drew  from  it  an  augury  of  what 
she  -s-o  ardently  desired,  that  her  uncle  was  indeed  about 
to  settle  down  a  better  and  happier  man.  But  all  her 
pleasing  anticipations  and  kindly  wishes  were  destined 
to  be  repaid  the  next  hour  only  with  disappointment  and 
aggravated  sorrow.  As  the  gratified  guests,  after  par 
taking  the  sumptuous  entertainment  with  which  they  had 
been  regaled,  and  spending  a  short  time  in  innocent  hilar 
ity,  were  beginning  to  depart,  Old  Jude  went  out  into 
the  yard  to  look  to  his  servant,  who  was  engaged  in 
bringing  up  to  the  door,  as  fast  as  they  wanted,  the 
horses  and  carriages  of  the  company.  Shack,  who 
had  thus  far  performed  his  duties  with  great  alacrity 
and  cheerfulness,  now,  as  his  master  appeared  in  the 
yard  and  began  to  order  him  about,  suddenly  became  so 
^dilatory,  sullen,  and  perverse  as  to  exhaust  the  old  man's 
patieuce,  and  cause  him  at  last  to  break  out,  as  was  his 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  245 

former  wont,  in  abusive  epithets,  which  the  other  seemed 
in  no  humor  to  bear ;  for  he  retorted  with  great  boldness, 
plainly  intimating  that  he  was  a  slave  no  longer.  As 
tonished  at  such  words  and  bearing  from  one  who 
was  an  indented  servant,  and  who  had  ever  before 
borne  his  petulance  and  abusive  language  submissive 
ly,  the  enraged  master  turned  fiercely  upon  him,  and 
exclaimed, — 

"  Impudent  scoundrel,  begone!  from  this  moment, you 
quit  my  house  and  employment  forever !  " 

"  It's  a  bargain  ! "  cried  Shack,  bluntly,  and  with  clog 
ged  composure,  while  he  looked  round  on  the  company, 
now  mostly  drawn  to  the  door  by  the  collision,  as  if  ap 
pealing  to  them  to  witness  the  compact  —  "it's  a  bargain 
—  exactly  what  I  wanted  —  so  now,  old  man,  we  are 
quits  in  law  as  well  as  friendship.  But  before  I  go,  jest 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  I'll  whisper  a  word  in  your  ear." 

He  then  walked  deliberately  up  to  the  other,  and,  as  he 
had  proposed,  whispered  something  in  his  ear ;  when  he 
sprang  back,  and,  with  a  look  of  malicious  triumph, 
awaited  the  effect  of  his  secret  communication. 

And  that  effect  was  soon  visible.  The  old  man,  after 
standing  mute  an  instant  with  a  staggered  and  perplexed 
expression,  suddenly  started,  like  one  on  whose  mind 
some  exciting  truth  has  unexpectedly  broken,  and  a  look 
of  overpowering  chagrin  settled  on  his  countenance,  but 
was  quickly  succeeded  by  one  of  unmitigated  wrath  and 
maddening  concern.  Hurling  with  fury  his  cane  at  the 
head  of  the  devoted  Shack,  he  turned  eagerly  towards 
the  window  on  which  the  package  he  had  given  Lot  was 
still  lying. 

"The  papers  —  the  papers!"  he  gasped,  rushing  for- 
21* 


246  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

ward  towards  the  object  of  his  concern,  with  one  hand 
•extended  out  for  the  grasp. 

But  just  as  his  half-clutched  fingers  were  fastening  on 
the  desperately  coveted  prize,  he  suddenly  stopped  short, 
a  change  passed  over  his  countenance,  —  his  arm  sunk 
nerveless  by  his  side,  and  straightening  back  and  glaring 
horridly  around  him,  he  pitched  forward  to  the  earth,  with 
the  blood  gushing  from  his  mouth  and  nostrils.  The 
violence  of  his  emotions  had  ruptured  a  blood-vessel,  and 
the  next  moment  the  spirit  of  Old  Jude  Hosmer  had 
winged  its  flight  to  its  doubtful  destination  in  another 
world. 

We  must  task  the  imagination  of  the  reader  to  picture 
the  scene  which  followed  among  the  family  and  guests 
on  the  awful  dispensation  that  had  thus  turned  their  fes 
tivities  into  mourning  —  the  painful  sensations  of  the 
young  couple,  when  all  that  could  be  known  and  inferred, 
respecting  the  situation  of  the  property  and  its  connec 
tion  with  the  old  gentleman's  death,  was  discovered  — 
the  great  stir  made  by  the  event  on  the  community 
around  —  the  wild  stories  that  naturally  arose  out  of  it 
among  the  ignorant  and  superstitious,  and  the  baffled 
attempts  of  the  intelligent  to  account  for  a  great  part  of 
what  had  happened.  For,  after  all  the  circumstances 
attending  Old  Jude's  strange  conduct  before  and  at  the 
time  of  his  death  were  known,  much  still  remained  en 
veloped  in  mystery,  which  none  could  penetrate.  Shack, 
who  had  been  seen  to  whisper  to  the  deceased  the  secret 
communication  which  produced  such  instant  effect  on 
him,  was  often  asked  what  he  had  communicated  on  that 
occasion,  and  whether  he  could  throw  any  light  on  the 
subject,  but  always  in  vain.  He  would  either  doggedly 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  247 

refuse  all  explanation,  or  turn  off  the  subject  with  some 
odd  evasion.  And  thus  the  whole  affair,  after  having 
been,  for  some  months,  the  talk  of  the  country  around  as 
one  of  the  greatest  wonders  of  the  day,  at  length  passed 
into  a  legend  of  the  marvellous  and  supernatural,  whose 
foundation  in  fact  none  were  ever  found  to  gainsay. 
Lot,  now  that  the  fear  of  the  old  man's  power  was  re 
moved  by  his  death,  was  soon  furnished  with  all  the 
evidence  which  would  have  been  required  to  substantiate 
his  wife's  claim  to  all  the  property,  had  such  been  need 
ed.  But  it  was  not.  The  deeds  and  other  instruments 
made  out  and  left  by  the  deceased  were  found  to  convey 
legally  the  whole  estate,  which  now,  by  common  consent, 
after  a  liberal  provision  was  made  for  the  widow  and  her 
insane  married  daughter  before  named,  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  young  couple  —  the  business  and  all  trans 
actions  connected  with  it  at  length  resumed  their  wonted 
channel,  although  the  public  at  large  soon  had  reason  to 
rejoice  in  the  change  of  the  ownership  and  possession  of 
a  property,  by  the  management  of  which  so  many  inter 
ests  were  affected. 


248  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 


CONCLUSION. 

IT  was  something  like  seven  years  after  the  concluding 
incidents  of  our  story,  that  Shadrack  Rogers,  who  had 
been  retained  in  the  employment  of  Lot  Fisher  and  his 
wife,  and  who  had  been  so  generously  rewarded  by  them 
for  his  good  conduct,  as  to  enable  him  to  buy  a  farm  for 
himself,  announced  his  intention  of  emigrating  to  the  far 
west.  And  on  the  morning  of  his  departure,  after  he 
had  bid  adieu  to  his  still  almost  idolized  young  mistress, 
and  slung  his  knapsack  for  the  start,  he  sought  her  hus 
band,  who  was  writing  in  his  library. 

"  Well,  Squire  Fisher,"  he  said,  in  his  usual  independ 
ent  manner,  as  he  entered  the  room,  "  now  for  the  few 
words  you  said  you  wanted  with  me  in  private,  before  I 
started;  for  you  see  I  am  all  equipped  for  over  the  hills 
and  far  away" 

"  Ay,  ay  —  but  be  seated,  Shadrack ;  for,  as  I  said,  I 
wish  for  a  little  talk  with  you,"  said  Fisher ;  "  and  in  the 
first  place,  let  me  ask  what  you  propose  to  do  out  west." 

"  Get  rich,  and  then  be  judge,  or  something,"  replied 
Shack  very  gravely.  "  Perhaps,  if  they  keep  you  in  Con 
gress  long  enough  —  say  twenty  years  —  and  I  guess 
they  will  by  the  strong  way  they  have  just  given  you 
your  first  election  —  perhaps  I'll  meet  you  there." 

"  On  my  word,  Shack,  I  don't  think  you  will  ever 
have  to  regret  not  having  set  your  mark  high  enough," 
responded  Fisher,  laughing  heartily.  "  But  after  all,  if 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  249 

you  go  on  picking  up  information  and  improving  as  fast 
as  you  have  since  living  with  me,  you  may  yet  be  found 
in  public  life.  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  native  capaci 
ties  enough  for  almost  any  thing — Squire  Stacy  has 
often  said  you  were  one  of  the  shrewdest  chaps  he  ever 
knew." 

"  The  squire  and  I  are  tolerable  friends,"  said  Shack, 
composedly. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  the  other,  "  and  that  remark  brings  me 
to  the  question  which  I  would  ask  you  in  confidence, 
and  which,  as  you  are  now  going  out  of  the  country,  I 
hope  you  will  candidly  answer." 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Shack,  looking  a  little  uneasy. 

"It  relates,"  replied  Fisher,  "  to  the  singular  change  in 
old  Mr.  Hosmer's  conduct,  which  so  speedily  brought 
about  my  marriage  with  his  niece,  and  the  no  less  singu 
lar  circumstances  attending  his  death.  Now,  I  was  al 
ways  satisfied,  Shack,  that  you  could  throw  some  light 
on  this  mystery,  if  you  chose ;  and  your  answer  to  one 
question,  very  probably,  may  explain  the  whole.  What 
was  it  you  whispered  to  him,  that  produced  such  a  terri 
ble  revulsion  of  feeling,  the  violence  of  which,  in  his  then 
weakened  state,  it  was  thought,  occasioned  the  rupture 
that  killed  him?" 

"  Why,  you  can't  have  any  suspicions,  Esquire  Fisher, 
that  I  intended  it  should,  or  supposed  it  could,  have  any 
such  effect,"  answered  Shack,  with  an  air  of  concern. 

"  O,  certainly  not ;  but  what  was  it  ?  " 

"  You  don't  intend  to  make  use  of  it  against  me,  no 
how?" 

"  No,  no  —  go  on." 

"  And  you  won't  tell  of  it  —  not  even  to  your  wife  ?  " 

"  I  am  as  anxious  as   you,   Shack,  that   the   matter 


250  THE    GUARDIAN    AND    GHOST. 

should  be  buried  in  oblivion.  But  I  wish  to  know  for 
other  reasons  than  mere  curiosity  —  fear  nothing,  and 
proceed." 

"Well,  I  just  hinted  to  him  who  the  ghost  was  — 
that's  all." 

«  Ah  !  —  the  ghost  —  who  was  it  ?  " 

"  That  can't  be  spoken  —  but  I  can  guess  how  it  was, 
perhaps,  if  that  will  do." 

"  I  will  hear  it,  and  then  judge." 

"  Well,  you  know  that  the  old  man  and  I  slept  in 
rooms  that  joined,  and  our  beds  stood  abreast  against 
opposite  sides  of  the  partition,  in  which  there  was  a  door, 
that  had  long  been  nailed  up,  right  between  us.  Now, 
the  ghost  might  have  found  out,  somehow,  that  the  lower 
panel  of  that  door  had  become  so  shrunk  that  it  could 
be  pinched  out  with  a  jackknife,  leaving  a  hole  under 
the  beds,  where  a  chap  —  say  of  about  my  size  —  could 
have  crept  through,  put  back  the  panel,  risen  up  from 
the  floor  with  a  sheet  round  him,  delivered  his  message 
from  the  other  world,  unlocked  the  old  man's  door,  and 
have  been  off  to  bed  and  a  snoring,  before  a  frightened 
man  would  be  apt  to  rally  to  try  to  catch  him." 

"I  see  —  I  see  —  the  ghost  stands  revealed.  But  per 
haps  you  can  guess,  also,  what  that  message  was,  which 
you  think  it  might  have  delivered." 

"  Well,  I  fancy  it  didn't  say  much,  the  first  time,  but 
only  groaned  and  complained  of  being  disturbed  in  the 
grave  at  a  brother's  doings.  The  second  time  it  did  the 
same,  and  made  its  appearance  without  saying  any  thing, 
trusting  that  would  be  enough.  But  finding  it  wan't, 
and  that  the  old  man  was  kinder  defying  it  by  fixing  on 
the  big  lock,  it  came  again  and  talked  like  a  book,  giving 
him  forty  days  to  make  all  right  in,  or  he  would  be  called 


THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST.  251 

for.  Well,  I  don't  know  which  was  the  most  scart  and 
worried  about  this  last  visit,  the  old  man  or  the  ghost, 
for  it  was  that  which  turned  the  old  man's  hair  so  white, 
and  so  nearly  upset  him.  But  it  fixed  him  about  right, 
and  the  business  moved  after  that  to  some  purpose,  as 
you  yourself  know." 

"  A  strange  and  cunning  plot,"  said  Fisher,  thought 
fully  ;  and  I  can  hardly  wonder  that  it  produced,  with 
the  operation  of  a  guilty  conscience,  such  an  effect. 
But  what  induced  you  to  divulge  this  to  the  old  gen 
tleman?" 

"  Why,"  replied  Shack,  "  I  had  got  a  peep  into  that 
bunch  of  papers  he  gave  you,  and  found  all  right.  Well, 
as  you  was  married  and  had  the  papers  in  your  pocket, 
as  I  supposed,  I  thought  every  thing  placed  beyond  a 
rip  up ;  and  when  the  old  man  called  me  names,  and  or 
dered  me  to  quit,  I  was  tempted  to  humble  him  on  the 
spot ;  so  I  up  and  told  him  —  sooner  than  I  intended, 
for  it  was  agreed  I  should  tell  him  before  long,  lest  it 
should  shorten  his  days." 

"  Agreed !  agreed  with  whom  ? "  eagerly  asked  the 
other,  catching  at  that  word. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  say  any  thing  about  any  whom,"  said 
Shack,  a  good  deal  disconcerted. 

"  No,"  persisted  Fisher,  "  but  you  used  a  word  that 
has  given  me  a  clew  to  another  part  of  the  secret,  which 
I  was  particularly  anxious  to  learn.  And  you  need  not 
deny,  Shack,  that  you  have  had  the  assistance  of  a  well- 
known,  shrewd  manager,  in  this  affair." 

"  Well,  well,"  replied  Shack,  with  the  chagrined  air  of 
one  who  has  unintentionally  committed  himself;  «*  sup 
pose  a  certain  man  did  help  at  the  planning,  and  perhaps 


252  THE  GUARDIAN  AND  GHOST. 

write  off  the  words  for  the  ghost  to  use  on  the  occa 
sion,  it  only  proves  that  two  heads  were  better  than  one, 
if  one  was  a  sheep's  head,  as  the  old  man  used  to  call 
me.  But  you  needn't  ask  me  to  say  another  word  about 
this  last  part  of  the  story ;  for  I  promised  to  keep  it  for 
ever  in  the  dark." 

Fisher  now  rose  and  paced  the  room  a  moment  in 
deep  thought ;  when  he  turned  to  the  other  and  said,  — 

"  Shadrack,  though  you  have  unintentionally  been  the 
means  of  having  my  fortunes  associated  with  a  painful 
event,  yet  there  is  no  denying  your  agency  in  making 
them.  Here,"  he  added,  pulling  out  a  hundred  dollar 
bank  bill,  "  take  this,  in  addition  to  what  we  have  already 
done  for  you,  and  with  it  my  best  wishes  for  your  suc 
cess  and  happiness  in  life." 

The  same  day  Fisher  executed  a  deed  to  Squire  Stacy, 
and  sent  it  to  him  enclosed  with  the  following  note :  — 

"  I  send  you  herewith  a  deed  of  the  little  farm  and 
cottage  of  mine,  down  the  river,  which  I  have  heard  you 
praise  frequently,  I  think. 

"  Shack  left  this  morning  for  the  west ;  and  before  I 
suffered  him  to  depart,  I  succeeded  in  drawing  from  him, 
for  the  first  time,  the  secret  of  the  'ghost?  though  he  only 
left  me  the  means  of  conjecturing,  as  I  know  well  enough 
I  have  done  correctly,  who  was  the  main  planner  of  the 
singular  experiment,  which  had  a  so  successful  but  mel 
ancholy  termination.  Please  accept  the  gift ;  for,  how 
ever  you  or  I  may  look  upon  that  affair,  you  are  entitled 
to  receive  from  me,  for  other  and  earlier  benefits,  this  me 
morial  of  my  gratitude.  Yours,  &c., 

"LoT  FISHER." 


THE 

: 

SHAKER    LOYEUS, 

1 
AND     OTHER    TALES. 


To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  hean, 
One  native  charm,  than  all  the  gloss  of  art." 

GOLDSMITH. 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  tales,  though  relating  to  matters  of  a 
iornestic  and  local  character,  are  yet  founded  more 
strictly  on  facts  than  any  of  the  author's  composition. 
All  of  them,  indeed,  are  but  illustrations  of  the  actual 
incidents  by  which  they  were  suggested,  with  little  other 
variation  than  what  would  naturally  arise  from  the  in 
troduction  of  scenery  and  dialogue  in  bringing  about 
the  iresults,  and,  perhaps,  we  should  add,  from  the  exer 
cise  of  the  license  generally  conceded  to  the  writers  of 
such  stories  —  that  of  making  any  alteration  in  the 
grouping,  which  will  heighten  the  interest  of  the  narra 
tive,  or  add  to  the  effect  of  the  development  of  the  plot. 

MOIKTJPELIER,  1852. 


THE 


SHAKER  LOVERS 


CHAPTER    I. 

I  WAS  once,  upon  a  warm  summer  afternoon,  journey 
ing  on  horseback  in  that  wild  and  picturesque  tract  of 
country,  in  New  Hampshire,  which  borders  on  the  upper 
portion  of  the  rnountain-born  Merrimack,  when  a  dark 
thunder  cloud,  that  had  been  gathering,  unperceived  by 
me,  in  the  distance,  rose  up  suddenly  from  behind  the 
screening  hills,  apprising  me  at  once  by  its  threatening 
aspect,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  it  was  rolling  towards 
me,  that  a  thorough  drenching  was  only  to  be  avoided 
by  an  immediate  flight  to  some  place  of  shelter. 

Applying  the  spur,  therefore,  I  put  my  horse  to  his 
best  speed,  and  fortunately  succeeded  in  reaching  a  sub 
stantial  looking  farm-house  by  the  roadside,  just  as  the 
big  bright  drops  of  rain,  as  if  shaken  down  by  the  crash 
ing  peal  of  thunder,  that  heralded  their  descent,  came 
merrily  dancing  to  the  smoking  earth. 

While  standing  in  the  open  shed,  that  I  had  been  so 

lucky  as  to  gain,  listening  to  the  roar  of  the  elements, 

and  marking  that  almost  terrific  sublimity  with  which  a 

thunder  storm  in  the  mountains  becomes  invested,  the 

22* 


258  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

owner  of  the  establishment,  a  fine,  hale-looking  man  of 
about  forty,  came  out,  and  very  courteously  invited  me 
into  the  house,  adding  at  the  same  time,  that  he  thought, 
from  the  unpromising  appearance  of  tfte  clouds,  I  might 
as  well  make  up  my  mind,  at  once,  to  remain  \vith  him 
through  the  night. 

As  it  was  then  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  rain  still 
continued  to  pour  down,  with  little  prospect  of  abating 
in  time  for  me  to  resume  my  journey  .before  dark,  I  soon 
concluded  to  accept  the  proffered  hospitality;  when  I 
was  immediately  ushered  into  the  house  by  my  kind 
entertainer,  and  introduced  to  his  interesting  family,  as 
"  a  stranger  who  had  been  induced  to  put  up  with  their 
poor  fare  for  the  night." 

I  had  already  been  struck  with  the  appearance  of 
thrift  and  good  management  in  every  thing  about  this 
establishment  without,  and  my  admiration  was  now 
equally  awakened  by  the  neatness  and  rustic  taste  of  all 
within,  and  the  peculiar  quiet  and  order  with  which  the 
family  concerns  seemed  to  be  conducted  under  the  super 
intendence  of  my  hostess,  who  was  one  of  the  most 
comely  and  engaging  matrons  I  remember  ever  to  have 
seen.  I  very  soon  discovered  my  host  to  be  a  man  of 
much  native  shrewdness,  and  of  fixed  and  well-formed 
opinions  on  almost  all  subjects  that  presented  them 
selves  ;  and  these  qualities,  united  with  a  spice  of  sly 
humor  and  a  good  tact  for  description,  failed  not  to  im 
part  a  high  degree  of  piquancy  and  interest  to  his  con 
versation.  After  the  excellent  supper,  with  which  we 
were  soon  favored,  was  over,  the  household  affairs  regu 
lated,  and  the  smaller  children  disposed  of  for  the  night, 
the  amiable  mistress  of  the  house  took  her  knitting-work 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  259 

and  joined  us  in  the  sitting-room,  adding  a  still  further 
interest  to  the  converse  by  her  quiet  presence,  and  the 
well-timed  and  pertinent  remarks  which  she  occasionally 
threw  in  on  the  different  subjects  that  were  introduced. 
The  conversation  at  length  turned  on  the  Shakers,  an 
establishment  of  whom  I  had  visited  that  very  morning. 
Perceiving  that  my  host  appeared  to  dissent  from  some 
general  remark  I  had  made  in  praise  of  that  singular 
society,  I  turned  to  him  and  said, — 

"  You  believe  them  to  be  an  industrious,  quiet,  and 
very  honest  people,  surely  —  do  you  not,  sir  ?  " 

"  Industrious  and  quiet  enough,  doubtless,  and  just  as 
honest  as  other  people,  and  not  a  whit  more  so,"  he  re 
plied. 

"Why,  I  had  supposed  them,"  I  rejoined,  "not  only 
peculiarly  honest  and  sincere,  but  in  a  great  degree  de 
void  of  all  those  passions  and  vices  that  most  move  and 
agitate  the  rest  of  society." 

"  All  that,  in  the  exterior,  they  generally  present,  I 
grant  you ;  but  are  you  willing  to  take  that  as  a  criterion 
of  their  true  character?"  he  asked. 

"  By  no  means,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  sir,  could  you  lift  the  curtain,  and  see  all  that 
this  sober  and  wonderfully  honest  exterior  is  sometimes 
made  to  conceal,  you  might,  perhaps,  be  a  little  less 
inclined  to  exempt  them  from  the  common  feelings  and 
frailties  of  other  people.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  tell  you 
a  story  of  an  affair  which  occurred  some  twenty  years 
ago  at  the  very  establishment  you  visited,  and  which 
would  show  —  " 

"  Now,  don't,  husband  !  "  interrupted  my  hostess,  with 
a  deprecating  look. 


260  THE    SHAKKR    LOYEKS. 

"  Only  by  way  of  argument,  wife,"  briskly  replied  the 
man,  casting  an  arch  look  at  the  other.  "  I  want  to  show 
him  that  love  and  intrigue  may  sometimes  be  found 
under  a  broad  brim  as  well  as  a  narrow  one/' 

"  O,  pray  left  us  have  it  —  go  on,  go  on,  by  all  means,-' 
I  eagerly  interposed,  delighted  at  the  novel  idea  of  a  love 
story  from  such  an  unpromising  source  as  that  of  the 
Shaking  Quakers.  With  another  roguish  glance  at  his 
slightly  disturbed,  though  now  acquiescent  companion, 
my  host,  after  a  brief  pause,  began  :  — 

It  was  a  delightful  evening  in  the  month  of  October, 
and  the  setting  sun  was  throwing  his  parting  beams  over 
the  yellow  forests  of  the  surrounding  uplands,  whose 
burnished  foliage  threw  back  the  mingling  streams  of 
reflected  light,  and  spread  a  red,  quivering  glow  over  the 
slumbering  waters  of  the  Mascomy  and  the  beautiful 
meadows  that  lie  stretched  along  its  shores.  Nearly  the 
whole  of  the  Shaker  family,  numbering  at  that  time 
something  less  than  a  hundred,  were  in  the  field,  a  short 
distance  from  the  pond,  engaged  in  gathering  the  rare 
fruit  of  their  extensive  orchards  —  the  women,  with  their 
hand-baskets,  picking  the  choicer  kinds  for  market  oir  for 
winter  preservation,  and  the  men  gathering  and  convey 
ing  to  the  teams,  stationed  at  different  points  of  the  field 
for  the  purpose,  that  part  of  the  fruit  which  was  destined 
for  the  ordinary  uses  of  the  society.  The  almost  exact 
uniformity  in  the  fashion  and  color  of  their  dresses  pro 
duced  a  singular  sameness  in  the  appearance  of  them  all ; 
but  this  was  more  particularly  the  case  with  the  females, 
whose  neat,  prim  dresses  of  never-varying  slate  color, 
white  linen  kerchiefs,  and  snowy  caps,  surmounted  by 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  261 

their  low,  plain  bonnets,  from  which  peeped  their  thin, 
pale  visages,  all  seemingly  marked  with  the  same  de 
mure,  downcast,  and  abject  expression,  might  have  dis 
posed  an  ordinary*  spectator,  as  they  were  moving  about 
the  field  as  silent  and  gestureless  as  a  band  of  automa 
tons,  to  look  upon  them  with  sensations  much  resembling 
those  we  experience  in  beholding  a  flock  of  wild  fowls, 
where  an  inspection  of  one  is  an  inspection  of  the  whole. 
A  closer  observer,  however,  in  examining  the  face  and 
figure  of  each,  would  have  discovered  that  here,  as  well 
as  elsewhere,  Nature  had  not  forgotten  to  be  partial  in 
the  distribution  of  her  favors ;  and  that  here,  as  well  as 
elsewhere,  were  those  on  whom  the  gift  of  personal 
beauty  had  not  been  so  altogether  charily  bestowed;  and 
among  the  latter  class  there  was  particularly  one,  whose 
rounded,  symmetrical  person,  fair  and  blooming  face,  and 
intelligent  and  sweetly-expressive  countenance,  all  strik 
ingly  contrasted  with  the  drooping  forms,  plain  features, 
and  passive,  unmeaning  looks  of  most  of  her  unattractive 
companions. 

Just  as  the  last  rays  of  the  sinking  sun  were  fading 
from  the  lofty  summit  of  the  distant  Kearsarge,  the  word 
was  passed  for  the  people  to  leave  work  and  return  to 
their  houses.  As  the  company  were  promiscuously, 
though  in  their  usual  quiet  and  unsocial  manner,  retiring 
from  the  field,  one  of  the  men  —  a  dark-eyed,  compactly- 
built  young  fellow  of  about  twenty-one,  bearing  a  large 
basket  of  apples  upon  his  shoulder,  contrived  to  cross  the 
path  of  the  young  Quakeress  just  described.  While 
doing  this,  and  when  directly  before  her,  at  a  few  yards' 
distance,  he  made  a  seemingly  accidental  misstep,  which 
suddenly  brought  his  basket  to  the  ground,  and  sent  its 


262  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

contents  rolling  over  the  grass  around,  till  they  met  the 
feet  of  the  approaching  maiden,  who  instantly  paused 
and  smiled  at  the  little  mishap  which  had  thus  oddly 
interrupted  her  in  her  course.  The  voung  man  immedi 
ately  threw  himself  upon  his  knees  among  the  scattered 
fruit,  as  if  intent  only  on  gathering  it  up ;  but  while  his 
hands  were  busily  employed  for  that  purpose,  his  eyes 
turned  with  a  quick,  eager  look  upon  the  face  of  the  girl. 

"  At  the  elm-tree,  Martha,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  hurried 
tone ;  "  meet  me  at  the  elm-tree,  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
orchard,  immediately  after  worship." 

"  It  is  dangerous  —  dangerous,  Seth,"  replied  the 
maiden,  slightly  coloring,  and  casting  an  uneasy  glance 
around  her. 

"  Now,  I  do  beseech  thee,  Martha ! "  he  persisted  im 
ploringly.  "  I  have  matters  of  great  moment  to  impart 
to  thee;  and  it  may  be  the  last  time  —  yea,  it  will  be,  if 
thee  refuse  me  now.  Will  thee  not  come,  then  ?  " 

"Perhaps  — "  answered  the  girl,  after  a  hesitating 
pause,  in  which  she  threw  a  look  of  inquiry  and  concern 
upon  the  youth,  but  seemed  to  suppress  the  question 
which  rose  to  her  lips;  "perhaps  —  that  is,  if  I  can  get 
away  from  the  buildings  without  being  noticed.  But 
thee  need  not  have  spilled  thy  apples  for  so  poor  a  pur 
pose,  Seth,"  she  added,  with  a  faint  smile. 

So  saying,  she  turned  hastily  away,  and  with  quickened 
steps  pursued  her  course  after  her  retreating  companions, 
while  the  other  now  proceeded  in  earnest  to  pick  up  his 
scattered  apples.  This  being  completed,  he  was  about 
to  rise,  when,  looking  around  him,  he  encountered  the 
gaze  of  a  man  peering  at  him  from  under  the  low-hang 
ing  branches  of  a  neighboring  apple-tree.  A  glance  suf- 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  263 

ficed  to  apprise  the  young  man  of  the  character  and 
object  of  the  interloper;  for  in  the  thick,  dumpy  figure, 
little  hooked  nose,  whitish  gloating  eyes,  and  ill-omened 
countenance  of  the  man,  he  at  once  recognized  one  of 
the  leaders  of  the  society,  and  the  one  above  all  others 
whose  notice,  at  this  juncture,  he  would  have  been  most 
anxious  to  avoid. 

"  Well,  make  the  most  of  it,  thou  vile  seeker  of  accu 
sations,"  indignantly  muttered  the  young  man  between 
his  teeth,  as  with  a  look  of  defiance  he  shouldered  his 
basket,  and  proceeded  homeward,  followed  at  a  short 
distance  by  the  object  of  his  aversion,  who  did  not  seem 
inclined  to  make  any  immediate  use  of  such  discoveries 
as  he  might  have  made  with  his  eyes,  for  the  distance 
precluded  the  possibility  of  his  hearing-  a  word  that  had 
been  uttered. 

But  before  proceeding  any  further  with  our  story,  it 
may  now  be  as  well,  perhaps,  to  speak  a  little  more  par 
ticularly  of  the  different  characters  we  have  introduced, 
and  advert  to  such  circumstances  of  previous  occurrence 
as  may  be  necessary  for  a  full  understanding  of  the 
situation  in  which  they  relatively  stood  towards  each 
other,  at  the  time  chosen  for  their  introduction. 


264 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SETH  GILMORE  had  been  an  orphan  almost  from  his 
childhood.  At  the  death  of  his  last-remaining  parent, 
he  was  taken  home  by  an  uncle  —  an  old  bachelor  of 
considerable  property,  to  which  it  was  supposed  the  boy 
would  eventually  succeed.  But  in  the  course  of  a  year 
or  two,  another  and  a  much  older  nephew  was  taken 
home ;  and  he,  being  of  a  selfish,  intriguing  disposition, 
soon  contrived  entirely  to  supplant  the  former  in  the 
affections  of  the  changeable  uncle,  who,  not  long  after, 
was  induced  to  give  the  unoffending  little  Seth  to  the 
Shakers  of  the  establishment  of  which  we  are  speaking. 
Here  continuing  to  remain,  he  became,  as  he  grew  up, 
noted  among  the  family  for  his  faithfulness,  activity,  and 
capacity  for  business,  and,  before  he  had  arrived  at  the 
age  of  twenty,  he  was  acknowledged  by  all  to  be  one  of 
the  most  skilful  and  efficient  hands  on  the  farm.  So  far, 
nothing  important  had  occurred  to  him  to  vary  the  dull 
monotony  of  the  Shaker  life.  But  now  Seth  began 
to  think  for  himself,  and  became  desirous  of  acquiring 
information  —  a  very  great  error,  he  was  taught  to  believe 
by  the  leaders,  who  hold  that  "ignorance  is  the  mother 
of  devotion,"  and  that  the  youth,  and  all  the  common 
members  of  the  family,  should  yield  implicitly  to  those 
who  are  gifted  to  think  for  them  and  instruct  them  in  all 
that  is  necessary  to  be  known.  The  young  man,  how 
ever,  wilfully  persisted  in  his  notions ;  and,  by  the  prompt- 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


265 


ings  of  this  heretical  spirit,  he  sought  the  acquaintance 
of  two  or  three  young  men  of  the  world  (as  all  without 
the  pale  of  the  society  are  termed)  who  occasionally  vis 
ited  the  establishment  for  the  transaction  of  business  or 
from  motives  of  curiosity.  Being  eager-  of  inquiry  and 
quick  to  comprehend,  he  soon  gained  information  from 
these  which  showed  him  the  falsity  of  many  of  the 
strange  ideas  and  impressions  he  had  there  imbibed  re 
specting  society  at  large,  and  otherwise  afforded  him  the 
means  of  judging  from  which  he  had  been  wholly  de 
barred  ;  for  it  is  the  settled  policy  of  the  leaders  of  this 
people,  in  order  to  make  faithful  and  contented  subjects, 
not  only  to  instil  into  the  minds  of  their  youth  the  great 
est  possible  abhorrence  of  the  world,  which  is  constantly 
represented  as  dishonest,  licentious,  and  every  way  cor 
rupt,  but  to  guard  with  untiring  vigilance  every  avenue 
of  information  that  might  have  a  tendency  to  undermine 
or  diminish  the  prejudices  and  opinions  thus  inculcated. 
Seth's  mind,  however,  was  of  a  cast  which,  when  once 
called  into  action,  was  not  easily  to  be  thus  trammelled ; 
and  the  doubts  which  his  own  reason  at  first  suggested 
being  constantly  strengthened  by  the  facts  gathered  in 
his  intercourse  with  these  young  men,  and  the  books  that 
he  borrowed  of  them  and  secretly  read,  in  spite  of  his 
masters  spiritual  and  temporal,  he  at  length  became  a 
confirmed  disbeliever  in  the  creed  to  which  he  had  been 
brought  up,  and  began  seriously  to  meditate  on  the  ex 
pediency  of  sundering  the  ties  which  bound  him  to  the 
society.  But  before  his  views  had  become  very  definitely 
settled  on  these  subjects,  or  any  plans  of  future  action 
matured,  the  Shaker  leaders  themselves  made  a  move 
ment  which  was  intended  to  anticipate  or  remedy  any 
23 


266  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

evils  of  the  character  just  named  that  might  be  growing ; 
for  these  wary  men,  who  watch  the  intellectual  progress 
of  their  youth  as  anxiously  as  ever  did  a  pedagogue  that 
of  his  pupils,  though  with  far  different  motives,  began 
to  perceive,  about  this  time,  that  our  hero's  mind  was 
becoming  rather  dangerously  expanded  ;  and,  although 
not  apprised  of  the  means  or  extent  of  his  information, 
yet  judging  from  what  they  had  noticed,  that  he  could 
not  long  be  retained  without  more  than  ordinary  induce 
ments,  they  held  a  secret  consultation,  and  finally  came 
to  the  sage  conclusion  that  Seth's  merits  were  such  as 
entitled  him  to  promotion.  Accordingly,  they  proposed, 
unexpectedly  to  him,  to  make  him  an  assistant  deacon, 
or  one  of  the  overseers  of  business,  naming  some  future 
day,  not  far  distant,  for  him  to  enter  on  the  duties  of  his 
office,  and  be  admitted  to  a  seat  with  them  in  the  coun 
cil,  which  met  from  time  to  time  to  deliberate  on  the 
temporal  concerns  of  the  family.  This  gave  a  new  direc 
tion  to  his  thoughts,  and  for  a  while  quieted  his  growing 
discontent.  Still  extremely  anxious,  however,  to  know 
more  of  the  world,  he  soon  claimed  the  privilege  of  going 
abroad  on  missions  of  trade  —  a  privilege  which  he  knew 
was  sometimes  accorded  to  those  exercising  the  office 
thit  had  been  offered  him,  provided  they  were  considered 
sufficiently  tried  and  trustworthy.  But  in  this  fond  wish 
of  his  heart  he  was  unexpectedly  doomed  to  disappoint 
ment,  for  which  he  was  indebted,  as  he  soon  discovered, 
to  the  influence  of  one  man,  the  person  we  have  already 
introduced  as  playing  the  spy  upon  the  young  couple  in 
the  orchard.  This  man,  who  went  by  the  appellation 
of  Elder  Higgins,  had  for  some  time  manifested  towards 
Seth  an  unusual  degree  of  coldness  and  distrust,  which 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  267 

the  latter,  till  now,  had  but  little  heeded.  But  this  last 
act  caused  his  ill  will  to  be  heartily  reciprocated  on  the 
part  of  the  young  man  ;  and  circumstances  soon  occurred 
which  made  the  breach  irreparable.  These  circumstances 
were  found  to  have  reference  to  a  third  person  —  the 
young,  innocent,  and  lovely  Martha,  towards  whom  the 
elder,  about  this  time,  began  to  pursue  a  course  of  con 
duct  as  strange  as  it  was  questionable. 

Martha  had  been  brought  to  this  establishment,  when 
eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  by  her  parents,  both  of  whom, 
at  the  same  time,  joined  the  family,  turning  into  the 
common  fund  the  whole  of  the  little  property  they  pos 
sessed.  All  the  acknowledged  relations  between  parent 
and  child  from  that  moment  entirely  ceasing,  the  little 
girl  was  left  wholly  to  the  guidance  and  instruction  of 
the  elders  and  eldresses,  to  whom  the  care  of  the  youth 
is  intrusted ;  and,  through  her  docility  and  her  meek  and 
confiding  disposition,  she  had  readily  imbibed  the  doc 
trines,  and,  for  the  greater  part  of  her  girlhood,  implicitly 
trusted  in  the  creed  that  was  taught  her,  exhibiting,  in 
her  exemplary  conduct,  a  bright  pattern  of  all  that  was 
esteemed  good  and  lovely  among  the  family.  But  as 
she  verged  upon  womanhood,  and  began  to  give  herself 
to  reflection,  her  naturally  clear  and  discriminating  mind 
—  moved,  perhaps,  by  the  associations  of  her  childhood 
that  still  hung  about  her,  or  the  observations  she  had 
made  upon  the  conduct  of  some  of  the  leaders  —  forced 
upon  her  questions  and  doubts  which  greatly  perplexed 
her  to  answer  or  solve.  These,  it  is  true,  at  first,  through 
the  pious  impulses  of  her  truly  devotional  heart,  were 
often  rejected  as  the  temptations  of  Satan  ;  but  they  as 
often  returned  to  disturb  the  quiet  of  her  pure  and  gentle 
bosom ;  and  at  length,  in  spite  of  her  strivings  to  the 


268  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

contrary,  she  became,  though  far  less  decidedly  than  the 
young  man  we  have  described,  a  disbeliever,  at  least,  in 
many  of  the  dogmas  of  that  creed  which  she  had  been 
taught  to  look  upon  as  infallible. 

Such  was  Martha  Hilson  ;  and  it  was  nothing  strange 
that  two  such  young  persons,  of  the  different  sexes,  as 
she  and  Seth,  in  the  daily  habit  of  seeing  each  other, 
and  possessing  characters  as  congenial  as  they  were,  in 
many  respects,  distinguished  from  those  around  them, 
should  attract  each  other's  particular  notice.  Nor  is  it 
much  less  to  be  wondered  at,  perhaps,  that  such  notice 
should  be  followed  by  the  springing  up  of  mutual  sym 
pathies  in  their  bosoms  ;  though  that  these  sympathies 
should  be  denned  and  acknowledged  by  their  true  name 
and  made  known  by  reciprocal  avowals,  was,  indeed,  at 
such  a  place,  a  rare  occurrence.  But  Love  is  a  cunning 
deviser  of  occasions;  and,  as  difficult  as  it  might  be  in 
this  case,  he  at  length  found  a  way  by  which  the  young 
couple  in  question  eventually  discovered  the  nature  of 
those  feelings  that  were  silently  drawing  their  hearts  to 
wards  each  other.  For  a  long  time,  however,  no  word 
or  communication  ever  passed  between  them,  save  that 
which  was  conveyed  in  the  language  of  the  eyes.  But 
after  a  while,  the  silence  was  broken,  as  they  casually  met 
in  the  yard,  by  a  simple  inquiry  for  some  third  person, 
and  by  as  brief  an  answer.  This  was  followed,  after 
another  interval  of  perhaps  a  month,  when  they  again 
accidentally  met,  by  the  interchange  of  a  few  words  on 
some  common  topic.  And,  at  length,  on  a  similar  chance 
occasion,  succeeded  a  proposal,  on  his  part,  to  loan  her  a 
book ;  which,  after  some  hesitation,  she  accepted,  with 
the  promise  to  peruse  and  return  it  at  a  time  and  place 
which  he  proposed  for  the  purpose.  An  excuse  for  meet- 


,  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  269 

ing  being  thus  found,  occasional  interviews  followed, 
though  at  none  of  them  was  a  word  breathed  by  either 
expressive  of  those  feelings  of  which  each  felt  a  trem 
bling  consciousness  as  the  true  secret  of  their  being  thus 
brought  together.  These  interviews,  moreover,  were  of 
the  briefest  kind,  and  indulged  in  but  very  rarely ;  for, 
aware  that  it  was  one  of  the  distinguishing  articles  of 
their  creed,  that  "  the  corruption  of  man  is  the  attachment 
of  the  sexes"  and,  consequently,  that  all  intercourse 
which  might  lead  to  such  attachment  should  be  strictly 
forbidden,  they  knew  how  closely  they  were  watched, 
and  how  surely  penance  of  some  kind  or  other  would 
follow  a  detection  of  their  meetings,  however  innocent 
the  object.  And  such  had  been  the  extreme  caution 
with  which  this  intercourse  had  been  managed,  that  they 
felt  sure  it  could  not  have  been  discovered;  and  they 
supposed  it  remained  wholly  unsuspected.  In  this  sup 
position  however,  they  soon  found  they  had  over-confi- 
dently  counted.  Something  in  their  demeanor,  some 
unguarded  look,  when  they  publicly  met,  or  some  brief 
absence  of  both  at  the  same  time,  had  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  prying  Higgins ;  and,  his  jealousy  being 
thus  aroused,  he  commenced  a  system  of  secret  espi 
onage  upon  the  young  couple  which  would  have  con 
ferred  credit  on  a  minion  of  the  Inquisition ;  the  result 
of  which  was,  that  he  became  convinced  of  the  existence 
of  a  forbidden  attachment  growing  up  between  them, 
and  strongly  suspected  them,  though  wholly  unable  to 
ascertain  it  for  a  fact,  of  holding  clandestine  interviews. 
This  personage,  whose  manner  was  as  hateful  as  his 
countenance  was  repulsive,  and  whose  whole  character 
was  a  strange  compound  of  the  fanatic,  the  Jesuit,  and 
23* 


270  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

the  voluptuary,  was  an  elder  in  the  church,  in  which, 
through  his  pretensions  to  "  leading  gifts"  or  direct  reve 
lations  from  above,  and  his  intriguing  and  ambitious 
disposition,  he  had  gained  an  influence  even  greater,  per 
haps,  than  the  "elder  brother"  himself,  as  the  chief  ruler 
of  each  Shaker  family  is  denominated.  And  his  am 
bition  being  not  satisfied  with  his  spiritual  dominion,  he 
aspired  to,  and  by  similar  means  obtained,  an  equal 
ascendency  in  the  management  of  the  business  and* 
temporal  concerns  of  the  establishment.  Exacting  the 
most  rigid  obedience  from  all,  requiring  the  most  im 
plicit  faith  in  all  the  ultra  doctrines  of  his  creed,  and 
ever  untiring  in  searching  out  delinquencies  in  others, 
while  he  shielded  his  own  under  the  very  convenient 
dogma  handed  down  by  Mother  Ann  Lee,  for  the  special 
benefit  of  the  peculiarly  gifted,  like  himself,  that  "  to  the 
pure  all  things  are  pure"  he  had  become  fairly  an  object 
of  dread  among  the  people.  For  these  reasons,  then,  if 
they  had  no  others,  it  will  be  readily  seen  how  much  our 
two  young  friends  had  to  fear  from  the  sanctimonious 
elder  ;  but  they  had  additional  reasons  :  he  had,  for  some 
time,  shown  himself  remarkably  sensitive  in  every  thing 
that  related  to  Martha  ;  and  no  sooner  were  his  sus 
picions  fairly  awakened  respecting  the  attachment  be 
tween  her  and  Seth,  than  she  was  summoned  to  meet 
him  at  the  confessional  alone,  and  in  one  of  the  most 
secluded  rooms  in  the  buildings.  This  was  several  times 
repeated,  to  the  great  horror  of  the  distressed  maiden, 
while  it  awakened  the  most  painful  apprehensions  in  the 
mind  of  Seth,  who  had  become  apprised  of  the  circum 
stance,  and  but  too  well  conjectured  the  secret  motives 
of  the  elder  in  summoning  her,  instead  of  him,  to  meet 
him  in  private ;  though  what  passed  on  these  occasions 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  271 

he  had  no  other  means  of  judging,  than  by  the  mingled 
expression  of  grief  and  outraged  feeling,  which  very 
visibly  marked  the  tear-stained  cheeks  of  the  poor  girl 
on  her  return  from  the  scene  of  her  trials. 

With  Seth  a  different  course  was  taken  ;  and,  though 
no  rebuke  was  openly  administered,  or  even  one  word 
was  any  where  said  to  him  respecting  the  offence  of 
which  he,  in  common  with  Martha,  was  suspected  to  be 
guilty,  yet  he  soon  found  that  he  was  not,  for  that  reason, 
any  the  less  marked  for  punishment.  He  soon  discov 
ered  that  the  elder  was  secretly  attempting  to  undermine 
his  character  with  the  family  ;  while  a  system  of  petty 
annoyances  was  made  to  meet  him  in  every  thing  he  did, 
till  his  life  become  one  of  constant  vexation  arid  misery; 
and,  being  no  longer  tempted  by  the  proposed  office 
without  the  coveted  privilege  of  going  abroad,  he  again 
began  to  meditate  about  leaving  the  society.  But 
checked  in  this  wish  by  a  want  of  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  succeed  in  the  world,  of  which  he  was  so  little 
informed,  and  above  all  by  his  love  for  Martha,  and  his 
fears  for  her  safety,  marked,  as  he  believed  her  to  be,  as 
the  victim  of  the  licentious  elder,  he  here  also  became 
the  prey  of  conflicting  emotion.  The  treatment  of  his 
malicious  prosecutor,  however,  at  length  drove  him  to  a 
final  decision  ;  and,  having  formed  a  new  plan  in  regard 
to  his  fair  friend,  whom  he  had  been  so  reluctant  to 
leave,  he  waited  only  for  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her 
alone,  (from  which,  through  the  precautions  of  the  elder, 
he  had  been  for  a  long  while  debarred,)  before  carrying 
his  resolve  into  execution.  With  these  remarks,  we  will 
now  return  to  the  events  which  form  the  action  of  our 
story. 


272  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


CHAPTER    III. 

ON  returning  to  their  buildings,  after  the  labors  of  the 
field  were  over,  the  family,  as  usual,  soon  repaired  to  the 
rooms  allotted  to  their  daily  repasts.  For  this  purpose 
their  tables  were  always  spread  in  separate  buildings,  one 
for  the  ordinary  male  members  and  for  the  females,  and 
one  for  the  leaders  ;  the  two  former  of  which  are  fur 
nished  with  plain,  substantial  food,  while  the  latter  is 
loaded  with  the  best  that  the  land  is  capable  of  affording, 
and  not  unfrequently  with  foreign  luxuries.  For  these 
dignitaries,  if  they  do  not  always  go  on  the  principle  of 
indulgence  involved  in  the  reported  saying  of  the  "  elect 
lady"  whose  authority  we  have  before  quoted,  that 
"  spirituous  liquor  is  one  of  God's  good  creatures"  have 
at  least  no  hesitation  in  acting  generally  on  the  as 
sumption,  that  the  gift  of  good  living  is  peculiarly  their 
own. 

Immediately  after  supper,  the  whole  family  assembled 
for  worship,  in  the  house  especially  consecrated  to  that 
purpose.  But  so  well  known  is  their  meaningless  mode 
of  worship  —  their  long-drawn,  nasal  chant  of  Hottentot 
gibberish,  set  to  the  "inspired"  tune  of,  perhaps,  Nancy 
Dawson,  or  the  Roving  Sailor,  (for  their  tunes,  as  well 
as  the  words,  they  contend,  are  inspired,)  their  formal,  un 
varying,  kangaroo-like  dance,  performed  with  uplifted 
hands  and  various  contortions  of  features,  or  the  occa 
sional  exhibition,  by  some  freshly-inspired  elder  or  eldress, 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


273 


of  a  new  gift  for  clapping  the  hands,  for  shaking,  jerking, 
jumping,  stamping,  and  groaning  —  so  well  known  are  all 
these,  that  we  will  pass  over  them  for  matters  more  imme 
diately  connected  with  our  story ;  and  for  this  purpose 
we  will  now  repair  to  the  trystic  tree  of  the  persecuted 
lovers,  who  had  generally,  as  now,  fixed  upon,  for  their 
interview,  the  hour  immediately  succeeding  worship, 
which  was  allowed  the  different  members  of  the  family 
for  attending  to  their  individual  concerns,  and  which, 
therefore,  afforded  opportunity  for  an  absence  less  likely 
to  be  noticed  by  the  Argus-eyed  leaders. 

The  broad,  bright  harvest  moon,  rising  majestically 
over  the  eastern  hills,  was  beginning  to  pour  down  her 
floods  of  quivering  light  upon  the  quiet  scene  —  now 
striking  upon  the  taller,  then  the  shorter  shrubbery  of 
the  field,  and  seemingly  converting  its  pendent  boughs 
into  glittering  tissues  of  silver  —  now  bursting  in  bright 
ness  upon  the  waveless  waters  of  the  extended  pond,  and 
now  glancing  abroad  upon  the  whole  of  the  surrounding 
landscape,  and  lighting  it  up  with  her  dim  and  solemn 
splendors. 

The  young  man,  the  first  to  reach  the  spot,  stood  pen 
sively  leaning  againt  the  trunk  of  a  wide-branching  elm, 
standing  but  a  short  distance  from  the  margin  of  the 
water.  As  the  moonlight  gleamed  across  his  face,  tokens 
of  deep  and  struggling  emotions  were  there  visibly  de 
picted  ;  and  even  a  tear  might  occasionally  be  seen  to 
start  out  and  glitter  upon  his  manly  cheek. 

Presently  the  white,  fluttering  robe  of  a  female  was 
seen  glancing  among  the  obstructing  trees  of  the  orchard, 
and  rapidly  gliding  towards  the  spot.  In  another  moment 
the  light  figure  rushed  into  the  opened  arms  of  the  young 


274  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

man,  their  heads  were  dropped  on  each  other's  shoulders, 
and,  for  a  brief  interval,  not  a  word  was  spoken. 

"O  Martha,  Martha!"  at  length  uttered  the  young 
man  in  tones  of  deep  and  troubled  feeling,  and  again  was 
silent. 

"  Thee  seems  much  agitated  to-night,  Seth,"  said  the 
girl,  in  a  meek,  inquiring  tone,  after  waiting  a  while  for 
the  other  to  proceed. 

"  I  am,  Martha,"  he  replied  ;  "  my  heart  is  indeed  tried 
—  sorely,  most  s"orely  tried." 

"  And  why  art  thee  thus  disquieted,  Seth  ?  "  again  ten 
derly  asked  the  girl;  "  and  why,"  she  continued  in  a  tone 
of  gentle  expostulation,  "  why  hast  thee  urged  me  to  this 
meeting,  when  thee  knows  that  I  am  not  without  my 
doubts  and  misgivings  about  communing  with  thee  in 
this  manner ;  and  when  also  thee  so  well  knows  the 
great  risk  we  both  run  of  being  discovered  and  punished, 
and  I,  particularly,  of  being  brought  to  shame  before  the 
people,  or  punished  in  other  fearful  ways  ?  " 

"  I  know  —  I  know  all,  Martha,  and  should  be  grieved 
to  be  the  means  of  causing  thee  trouble.  But  so  many 
things  have  happened  since  we  met,  and  I  had  so  much 
which  I  desired  to  say  to  thee,  that  I  could  not  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  go  away  without  seeing  thee." 

"  Go  away,  Seth  ?  Surely !  hast  thee  well  considered  ?  " 

"  Yea,  long  and  deeply.  I  can  no  longer  endure  the  vile 
misusage  I  have  lately  received  ;  and  I  can  no  longer  en 
dure  to  be  a  slave  —  a  slave  to  those  who  would  fetter 
and  degrade  both  the  body  and  the  mind ;  and  therefore 
I  have  fully  determined  that  this  night  I  will  leave  them." 

"  But  whither  would  thee  go,  Seth?  —  into  the  wide, 
wicked  world  ?  " 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  275 

"  If  I  thought,  Martha,  that  I  should  find  the  people  of 
the  world  more  wicked  than  some  of  those  I  shall  leave 
behind,  I  would  remain.  But  of  that  I  have  no  fears ; 
and  it  is  not  that  which  now  troubles  and  perplexes  me." 

"  If  we  have  been  taught  aright,  what  should  trouble 
thee  more,  Seth  ?  " 

"  Ay,  if  aright ;  but  thee  already  knows  my  opinions 
of  the  absurdity  of  much  of  our  creed,  and  the  falsity  of 
half  that  is  told  us.  No,  it  is  no  scruples  of  that  kind, 
but  my  doubts  and  fears  about  the  reception  I  may  meet 
with  in  the  world,  of  whose  ways  I  know  so  little,  and 
in  which  I  must  appear  so  foolish  and  awkward.  I  am 
ignorant,  Martha,  ignorant  as  a  child,  of  all  that  I  should 
know." 

"  But  does  not  that  spring  from  pride  of  heart,  Seth, 
which,  under  any  good  creed,  thee  would  be  taught,  and 
should  strive  to  banish  ?  It  appears  to  me  thee  should 
have  better  reasons." 

"  Well,  I  have  other  reasons,  and  they  are  with  me, 
I  confess,  much  stronger  ones ;  but  I  know  not  that  thee 
would  consider  them  better.  It  is,"  —  and  the  youth 
paused  and  hesitated,  while  the  wondering  maiden  threw 
an  innocent  and  inquiring  look  upon  his  sorrowful  and 
agitated  countenance,  — "  it  is,"  he  resumed,  at  length 
mastering  his  emotions,  "  it  is  the  thought  of  leaving  thee, 
Martha,  which  wrings  my  heart —  of  leaving  thee  among 
this  people,  to  be  subjected  to  the  wiles  and  persecutions 
of  that  designing  —  " 

"  O,  name  him  not  —  name  him  not,  Seth!"  quickly 
interrupted  the  girl,  with  a  shudder,  which  but  too  plain 
ly  told  her  fears  and  abhorrence  of  the  man  about  to  be 
mentioned. 


276  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

"  I  should  not,  Martha,  but  I  have  noticed  that  which 
has  filled  me  with  alarming  conjectures — with  fears  for 
thy  safety  ;  and  I  would  that  thee  tell  me  what  he  pro 
poses  to  thee." 

"I  cannot  —  I  cannot;  but,  O,  if  thee  knew  my 
troubles,  Seth !  "  and  the  poor  girl,  at  the  thought  thus 
called  up,  dropped  her  head  on  the  other's  shoulder,  and 
wept  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  The  wretch,  the  accursed  wretch ! "  exclaimed  the 
young  man  bitterly. 

"  Nay,  nay,  do  not  curse,  Seth,"  sobbed  the  girl,  making 
an  effort  to  check  her  emotions  ;  "that  is  a  gift  belonging, 
I  think,  only  to  the  Great  One  above,  who  metes  out 
justice  to  the  sinful,  not  as  man  metes  it,  under  the  influ 
ence  of  blinding  passions,  but  according  to  the  proper 
measure ;  and  he,  we  must  remember,  can  protect  the 
innocent  as  well  as  punish  the  guilty ;  and  though  my 
trials  are  indeed  sore,  yet  I  trust  that  that  good  Being 
will  still,  as  he  has  thus  far  done,  preserve  rne  guiltless 
and  unharmed."  * 

Each  being  absorbed  in  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which 
the  conversation  had  excited,  there  was  a  short  pause  in 
the  discourse,  during  which  the  maiden  gently  disengaged 
herself  from  the  partial  embrace  of  the  other,  and  wiping 
her  eyes,  resumed  her  usual  tranquillity. 

"  Martha,"  at  length  said  the  young  man,  with  an  air 
of  embarrassment  and  a  slight  tremulous  accent. 

"  What  would  thee  say,  Seth  ?  "  asked  the  maiden  inno 
cently,  seeing  the  other  hesitated  to  go  on. 

"  Martha,"  resumed  the  youth  with  an  effort,  "  Martha, 
does  thee  love  me  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why,"    replied    she,  now   embarrassed    and 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


27? 


hesitating  in  turn  — "  why,  we  are  commanded  to  love 
one  another  ;  are  we  not  ?  " 

"  Ay,  Martha ;  but  does  thee  regard  me  with  that  feel 
ing  which  the  world  calls  love  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  tell  thee,  Seth  ;  I  have  often 
greatly  feared  that  my  heart  was.  an  erring  one.  I  have 
tried  to  bestow  my  love  on  all ;  but  I  may  have  some 
times  thought,  perhaps,  that  thee  was  getting  rather  more 
than  thy  share." 

"  Thy  words  are  precious  to  my  heart,  Martha.  Let 
us  then  cherish  that  feeling  towards  each  other,  and  per 
mit  it  to  lead  us  to  its  natural  consummation.  Thee 
knows,  Martha,  that  the  love  of  which  I  speak,  when 
crowned  by  marriage,  is  allowed  and  approved  by  the 
good  and  wise  of  every  sect  but  our  own.  Thee  knows, 
also,  that  it  is  sanctioned  and  blessed  by  the  good  book, 
which  I  lent  thee  on  purpose  that  thee  might  read  the 
whole,  instead  of  only  such  parts  as  our  elders  would 
have  us  take  as  our  guide,  cunningly  denying  us  the  free 
use  of  the  book,  because  they  fear  to  have  us  read  and 
reason  the  rest — not  because,  as  they  pretend,  we  should 
pervert  it." 

"  Thee  bewilderest  me,  Seth.  I  will  confess,  I  have, 
at  times,  thought  that  there  is  reason  in  what  thee  now 
says  ;  but  I  have  nearly  as  often  feared,  that  it  was  only 
the  promptings  of  vain  fancies  or  sinful  inclinations. 
And  it  is  so  different  from  what  I  have  always  been 
taught,  that  it  sometimes  makes  me  tremble,  lest  I  should 
be  left,  at  last,  to  harbor  a  belief  which  may  be  wrong  in 
itself,  and  prove  ruinous  to  my  soul's  interests." 

"  It  is  not  wrong,"  warmly  urged  the  young  man ;  "  it 
surely  is  not  wrong,  Martha.  It  is  right ;  thy  reason  tells 
24 


278  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

thee  it  is  right ;  all  nature  confirms  it.  The  Bible,  when 
properly  consulted,  answers  yea.  Come,  then,  Martha, 
come  with  me.  Let  us  go  into  the  world,  where  there 
will  be  no  mean  spies  to  dog  and  torment  us  —  no  ty 
rants  to  prevent  our  innocent  actions,  and  make  them  an 
excuse  for  prosecuting  their  own  foul  designs  —  none  to 
molest  or  make  us  afraid  —  where,  united  as  one,  never 
more  to  part,  we  will  live  and  be  free  to  love,  and  in  that 
love  and  freedom  find  our  solace,  our  comfort,  and  lasting 
felicity.  Come —  O,  come,  come,  Martha,  and  fear  not  — 
with  my  own  hands  I  will  support  and  provide  for  thee, 
and  in  my  own  heart  I  will  cherish  thee  through  all  the 
changing  scenes  of  life." 

"  O,  tempt  me  not  —  tempt  me  not,  Seth  !  " 

"  Do  not  call  it  temptation,  dearest  one.  Sooner  would 
I  suffer  all  that  wicked  men  could  inflict,  than  lead  thee 
astray.  I  mean  it  — - 1  think  it  for  thy  good,  as  much  as 
for  my  own  happiness.  No,  it  is  not  temptation ;  it  is 
but  the  pleadings  of  wisdom  and  of  love.  Fly  with  me, 
then,  this  night  and  this  hour  —  fly  with  me  from  the 
persecutions,  the  miseries,  and  the  dangers  that  here  so 
thickly  beset  thee,  to  safety  and  happiness." 

"  Nay,  nay,  Seth,"  replied  the  maiden  calmly  and  firmly, 
after  appearing  to  struggle  a  moment  with  her  conflicting 
feelings  —  "  thy  proposal  is  a  bold  and  a  startling  one ;  it 
is  also,  to  me,  a  new  and  an  unexpected  one.  I  have  not 
considered,  and  may  not  now  accept  it ;  and,  moreover, 
I  may  not  now  longer  remain  with  thee.  I  must  return 
to  the  buildings." 

"  And  am  I  never  to  see  thee  more  ?  "  asked  the  other, 
sadly. 

"  Why,  if   thee  will    indeed    leave   us,"  she    replied, 


THE    SHAKER   LOVERS.  279 

lingering  and  hesitating  —  "  unless,  perhaps  —  unless  thee 
could  return,  at  some  appointed  time  and  place  —  " 

"  Will  thee,  then,"  eagerly  inquired  the  young  man  — 
"  will  thee  meet  me  here,  four  weeks  from  this  night  ?  " 

"  If  permitted,  I  will,  Seth." 

"  And  be  prepared  to  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Again  I  may  not  promise ;  but  I  will  weigh  thy  pro 
posal  with  kindly  intent.  Now  fare  thee  well,  Seth." 

"  Fare  thee  well,  beloved  Martha  —  if  thee  can  stay  no 
longer,  fare  thee  well,  with  many,  many  blessings  ;  but 
remember,  O,  remember ! " 

Fondly  and  anxiously  gazed  the  young  man  after  the 
maiden,  till  her  retreating  form  was  lost  to  his  view 
among  the  intervening  shrubbery,  when  he  appeared  to 
rouse  himself  from  his  tender  reverie  to  the  purpose  now 
remaining  to  be  accomplished ;  and,  with  a  firm  step  and 
resolute  air,  he  bent  his  course  towards  the  shore  of  the 
pond,  where  he  knew  a  boat  belonging  to  the  Shakers 
was  moored. 


280  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

ALTHOUGH  the  Shaker  leaders  mainly  depend,  for  re 
taining  their  subjects,  upon  the  impressions  of  aversion 
and  hatred  of  the  world  which  they  so  sedulously  implant 
in  the  bosom  of  their  youth,  aided  by  the  extreme  igno 
rance  in  which  they  are  kept  for  that  purpose,  and  by 
which  they  are  generally  rendered  as  helpless  and  passive 
as  could  be  wished,  yet  force,  whatever  may  be  said  to 
the  contrary,  is,  or  at  least  was  formerly,  not  unfrequently 
resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  restraining  those  detected 
in  attempting  to  escape.  Seth,  therefore,  with  a  view 
of  avoiding  collisions  growing  out  of  any  attempt  that 
might  be  made,  in  case  he  had  been  suspected  and 
watched,  to  prevent  his  going  away,  deemed  it  best  to 
depart  in  a  direction  and  in  a  manner  which  the  Shakers 
would  be  the  least  likely  to  suspect  him  of  taking.  In 
pursuance  of  this  plan,  he  had  determined  to  take  the 
boat  and  cross  over  to  some  point  which  would  place 
him  beyond  the  family  possessions,  within  the  boundaries 
of  which  the  pursuit  of  their  fugitives  was  usually  con 
fined.  Congratulating  himself  on  the  result  of  his  inter 
view  with  Martha,  which,  besides  filling  his  bosom  with 
the  blissful  consciousness  that  his  love  was  reciprocated, 
and  inspiring  his  mind  with  the  joyful  hope  that  the  prize 
of  his  affections  would  soon  be  his,  had  passed  over,  as 
he  had  supposed,  undetected,  he  pursued  his  way  with  a 
light  and  rapid  step  along  the  path  leading  to  the  water. 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  281 

He  had  not  gone  many  rods,  however,  before,  to  his  utter 
surprise,  his  old  persecutor,  the  sleepless  Higgins,  stepped 
out  from  behind  a  covert,  and,  with  a  look  of  malicious 
triumph,  confronted  him  in  his  path.  Deeply  vexed,  but 
neither  daunted  nor  turned  from  his  purpose,  the  young 
man  paused,  and  threw  back  a  look  of  indignation  and 
scorn  on  his  detested  opponent ;  for  perceiving  the  elder 
to  be  alone,  and  conscious  of  his  own  bodily  powers,  he 
disdained  either  to  cower  or  flee,  but,  with  an  air  of  cool 
defiance,  stood  waiting  his  movements. 

"Ah,  thou  vile  young  heretic!"  at  length  exclaimed 
the  elder  tauntingly ;  "  I  have  caught  thee  at  last,  then, 
in  thine  iniquities,  eh  ?  What  was  thee  saying  to  the 
maiden  ?  " 

"  What  thee  will  not  be  likely  to  be  much  the  wiser 
for,"  indignantly  replied  Seth,  who  felt  confident  that, 
whatever  the  elder's  luck  had  been  as  a  spy,  he  could 
not,  from  the  distance  of  his  position,  have  gained  much 
in  the  character  of  an  eavesdropper. 

"  Ha !  dost  thou  defy  thy  appointed  rulers,  young 
man  ?  Confess  thy  sins  unto  me,  lest  I  make  an  exam 
ple  of  both  thee  and  her  in  punishment  of  thy  heinous 
offences." 

"  Hypocrite,  I  know  thee,  and  for  myself  I  defy  thee ! 
But  I  bid  thee  beware  how  thee  shall  further  'persecute 
that  innocent  girl ;  for  as  sure  as  thee  injures  a  hair  of 
her  head,  I  will  hunt  thee  while  I  live,  and  haunt  thee 
when  I  am  dead." 

Accustomed  to  witness  only  tokens  of  the  most  abject 

submission  in  the  deluded  people  over  whom  he  had  so 

long  tyrannized,  and  totally  unprepared  for  such  bold 

language  from  the  youth,  whose  spirit  he  had  greatly 

24* 


282  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

underrated,  the  astonished  elder  stood  a  moment  fairly 
choking  with  rage,  unable,  from  the  violence  of  his  pas 
sions,  to  utter  a  single  word. 

"Get  —  get  —  get  thee  back  to  the  buildings!"  at 
length  he  sputtered  in  exploding  rage.  "  Get  thee  back, 
thou  audacious  —  thou  —  thou  God-forsaken  reprobate! 
Get  thee  back,  I  say,  instantly ! " 

"Man,  I  shall  not  obey  thee!"  said  Seth  in  a  cool, 
determined  tone.  "  I  no  longer  acknowledge  thy  author 
ity;  and,  from  this  hour,  I  am  no  longer  one  of  thy 
blinded  and  deluded  people.  I  go  hence,"  he  added,  turn 
ing  out  of  the  path  and  attempting  to  pass  the  other. 

"  I  will  detain  thee  —  I  will  seize  thee  —  I  will  curse 
thee,  and,  verily,  I  will  smite  thee ! "  again  exclaimed  the 
fuming  elder,  springing  at  the  other  and  making  a  des 
perate  grasp  at  his  collar. 

The  young  man,  however,  was  not  taken  unprepared 
for  the  onset ;  and  the  next  instant  the  wrathful  Quaker 
was  sprawling  upon  the  earth.  Bounding  forward  for 
the  pond,  with  the  object  of  getting  out  upon  the  water 
before  his  discomfited  antagonist  could  recover  himself 
and  reach  the  shore  in  pursuit,  Seth  quickly  gained  the 
landing,  hastily  unfastened  the  skiff,  and  leaped  aboard  ; 
but  before  he  could  succeed  in  clearing  the  boat  from  the 
shore,  and  as  he  was  stepping  backwards,  with  handled 
oar,  to  take  his  seat  in  the  stern,  the  infuriated  elder  came 
puffing  in  hot  haste  down  the  bank,  and  dashed  into  the 
water  up  to  his  knees  after  the  receding  boat,  which  even 
at  that  moment  had  just  passed  out  of  his  reach.  But, 
espying  the  end  of  a  tie  rope,  which,  in  the  hurry  of  un 
fastening,  had  not  been  taken  up,  and  which  was  now 
draggling  through  the  water  within  reach,  he  instantly 


THE    SHAKER   LOVERS. 

seized  it  and  gave  it  a  sudden  and  furious  jerk.  Uncon 
scious  of  the  oversight  he  had  committed,  and  therefore 
wholly  unprepared  for  this  movement,  the  young  man 
lost  his  balance  in  the  violence  of  the  shock,  was  precip 
itated  backwards  over  the  end  of  the  skiff,  and  instantly 
disappeared  beneath  the  surface.  With  a  desperate  effort 
the  elder  first  drew  the  skiff  up  high  and  dry  on  the  shore, 
then,  hurriedly  catching  up  an  oar  and  springing  back  to 
the  water's  edge,  he  held  the  formidable  implement  uplift 
ed  and  drawn  back,  as  if  in  readiness  for  a  fatal  blow  the 
instant  his  victim's  head  should  reappear  on  the  surface. 
In  a  few  seconds  the  youth  came  up,  just  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  weapon ;  when,  perceiving  the  threatening 
attitude  of  his  antagonist,  apparently  determined  on  his 
destruction  should  he  attempt  to  come  ashore,  he  seem 
ingly  became  panic-struck  and  confused,  and,  after  glar 
ing  wildly  around  him  an  instant,  sunk  again  with  a 
gurgling  sound  beneath  the  -surface,  to  rise  no  more  to 
view. 

With  a  look  of  still  unmitigated  malice  and  ferocity, 
and  with  the  same  menacing  attitude,  the  ruthless  elder 
stood  waiting  for  a  second  appearance  of  his  victim  for 
a  full  moment,  when  he  began  to  exhibit  tokens  of  sur 
prise,  and  lowered  his  weapon  a  little,  still  keeping,  how 
ever,  his  eyes  keenly  fixed  on  the  spot.  After  waiting  in 
vain  nearly  another  moment  for  the  drowning  man  to 
rise,  the  elder  became  thoroughly  alarmed,  and,  throwing 
down  his  oar,  hurriedly  retreated  a  few  yards  on  to  the 
bank.  Here  he  turned  and  threw  another  anxious  and 
troubled  look  upon  and  around  the  fatal  spot.  A  few 
faint  bubbles,  successively  rising  to  the  surface,  alone 
answered  his  inquiring  gaze ;  and,  reading  in  them  con- 


284  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS, 

elusive  evidence  of  the  horrid  truth,  he  gave  a  convulsive 
start,  and  fled  in  terror  towards  the  buildings  as  fast  as 
his  quaking  limbs  could  carry  him,  mumbling  and  chat 
tering  to  himself  as  he  went,  — 

"  Now,  who  would  have  thought !  If  the  youth  could 
have  swam  —  And  am  I  to  blame  that  he  never  learnt 
to  swim  ?  Of  a  surety,  I  am  not.  And  then,  did  he  not 
lift  his  hand  against  a  gifted  elder  of  God's  church  ? 
and,  moreover,  have  I  not  saved  the  family  boat,  which 
he  was  about  to  purloin  ?  Verily,  I  have  done  a  good 
thing ;  though,  I  think,  I  will  not  name  the  matter  to  the 
people  —  no,  lest  it  lead  to  the  temptation  of  evil  speak 
ing  against  rulers,  and,  peradventure,  get  to  the  world's 
magistrates.  And  then,  again,  there  is  the  youth's  prop 
erty,  which  he  was  so  froward  and  perverse  about  relin 
quishing  to  the  church.  Nay,  I  will  not  let  the  affair 
be  known  to  any,  but  go  to  work  right  cunningly,  and 
secure  it  all  for  God's  heritage.  Yea,  verily,  I  have  done 
a  good  thing." 

Thus  strangely  reasoning,  and  thus  desperately  grasp 
ing  at  salvos  for  his  troubled  and  guilty  feelings,  the 
terror-stricken  elder  reached  home,  and,  without  uttering 
a  syllable  of  what  had  happened  to  any  one,  immediately 
betook  himself  to  his  solitary  lodgings,  not  there,  how 
ever,  to  find  peace  and  repose,  but  to  turn  and  writhe 
under  the  scorpion  stings  of  conscience  —  that  unescapa- 
ble  hell  of  the  guilty,  which  retributive  Heaven  has 
planted  in  the  bosom  of  man  for  the  certain  punishment 
of  his  crimes. 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  285 


CHAPTER    V. 

MEANWHILE  the  lovely  and  conscientious  Martha, 
wholly  unapprised  of  what  had  befallen  her  lover,  retired 
to  her  peaceful  pillow,  and  endeavored  to  reflect  calmly 
on  the  new  and  interesting  subject,  which  her  recent  in 
terview  with  him  had  opened  to  her  mind.  But  finding 
herself  unable  to  do  this,  from  the  thousand  crowding 
thoughts  and  sensations  which  combined  to  swell  the 
half-fearful,  half-delicious  tumult  of  her  gentle  bosom, 
she  discreetly  deferred  the  task  for  a  cooler  moment, 
and  having  piously  commended  herself  to  the  protection 
of  her  Maker,  yielded  her  senses  to  those  quiet  and 
peaceful  slumbers,  that  constitute  not  the  least  among 
the  rewards  of  virtue  and  innocence.  On  awakening 
the  next  morning,  her  thoughts  immediately  recurred  to 
the  subject  that  occupied  her  last  waking  moments  ;  and, 
as  she  now  figured  in  her  mind  her  lover,  far  on  his  way 
from  the  place,  rejoicing  in  his  freedom  from  the  oppres 
sion  he  had  at  length  escaped,  she  again  and  again 
recalled  the  tender  professions  he  had  made,  and  ran 
over  the  arguments  he  had  advanced  in  urging  her  to 
leave  her  present  situation  and  go  forth  with  him  into 
the  world  as  his  companion  for  weal  or  for  woe.  And 
the  more  she  thought  of  the  proposed  step,  at  first  so 
startling,  the  less  fearful  did  it  appear.  The  more  she 
weighed  his  reasons  with  those  she  found  herself  able  to 
bring  up  in  refutation,  lighter  and  lighter  grew  the  objec- 


286  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

tions  which  had  caused  her  to  hesitate,  even  in  giving 
him  a  definite  promise  of  acceding  to  his  request  when 
they  should  again  meet ;  and  as  her  scruples  yielded, 
and  one  after  another  gave  way,  the  unchecked  plead 
ings  of  her  own  heart  came  in,  and  soon  decisively  turned 
the  already  inclining  balance,  leaving  her  mind  now  free 
to  wander  unhesitatingly  over  the  new  and  bright  field 
of  destiny  which  had  thus  been  presented  to  her  view. 
After  indulging  in  her  pleasing  reveries  as  long  as 
inclination  prompted,  the  maiden  arose,  performed  the 
duties  of  her  simple  toilet,  and  was  on  the  point  of  de 
scending  from  her  chamber  to  join  in  performing  the 
domestic  concerns  of  the  morning,  when  her  attention 
was  arrested  by  an  unusual  commotion  among  the  peo 
ple  below,  which  she  soon  ascertained,  from  some  words 
that  reached  her  ear  through  the  partially  opened  door, 
to  be  caused  by  the  discovered  absence  of  Seth,  for  whom 
search  had  already  been  made,  but  in  vain.  The  con 
sciousness  that  within  her  own  bosom  she  harbored  the 
secret  of  the  missing  one's  absence,  which  she  might  not 
reveal,  made  her,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  feel  like  a 
guilty  one ;  and,  not  daring  to  go  down,  lest  her  appear 
ance  should  betray  the  agitation  she  felt,  she  paused  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  stood  some  time  endeavoring 
to  compose  her  feelings  and  gain  a  command  of  her 
countenance,  which  should  save  her  from  showing  any 
excitement  that  might  not  be  natural  to  the  occasion. 
But  while  doing  this,  the  poor  girl  was  little  dreaming 
of  the  thousand  times  more  difficult  task  in  reserve  for 
her  —  that  of  controlling  her  feelings  under  the  heart- 
crushing  blow  which  she  was  destined  the  next  moment 
to  receive.  For  the  appalling  announcement  was  next 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  287 

heard  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth  among  the  family, 
that  Seth  was  drowned  in  the  pond,  the  evidence  of 
which,  in  addition  to  his  unaccountable  absence,  was 
found  in  the  circumstance  that  his  hat  had  been  discov 
ered  floating  near  the  shore,  while,  at  a  little  distance, 
one  of  his  shoes  had  been  espied  sunk  on  the  bottom, 
which  had  been  fished  up  and  identified. 

It  can  be  much  better  imagined  than  described  what 
were  the  feelings  of  Martha  on  hearing  these  mournful 
tidings.  No  word,  or  sound,  however,  escaped  her  lips 
on  the  occasion.  She  turned  deadly  pale,  indeed,  and, 
for  a  moment,  leaned  her  head  for  support  against  the 
door  casing ;  and  this  was  succeeded  by  a  quick  heaving 
of  her  bosom,  while,  with  clasped  hands  and  closed  eyes, 
her  trembling  lips  moved  rapidly,  as  if  earnestly  engaged 
in  silent  devotion.  But  the  next  moment,  as  she  opened 
her  eyes,  and  with  a  firm  step  descended  from  her  room, 
a  spectator  would  have  detected  nothing  more  in  her 
placid,  though  pale  and  sad  countenance,  than  he  might 
have  seen  in  the  faces  of  the  rest  of  the  sisterhood,  among 
whom  she  now  immediately  mingled. 

Most  of  that  day  was  spent  by  the  Shaker  men  in 
dragging  the  pond  in  search  of  the  body,  from  which 
operation  Elder  Higgins  kept  studiously  aloof;  though 
the  nervous  restlessness  he  constantly  exhibited  through 
the  day,  and  the  many  anxious  and  inquiring  glances  he 
frequently  cast  towards  those  thus  engaged,  plainly  told 
the  painful  interest  he  felt  in  what  was  going  on.  The 
search  proved  a  vain  one.  This,  however,  did  not  lead 
any  one  to  doubt  that  the  young  man's  fate  was  any 
different  from  the  one  first  supposed,  as  the  body,  it  was 
conjectured,  had  floated  off  and  sunk  in  some  of  the 


288  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

deepest  parts  of  the  pond.  But  although  all  were  unan 
imous  in  the  opinion  that  Seth  had  met  his  death  by 
drowning,  yet,  with  regard  to  the  manner  in  which  the 
casualty  could  have  happened,  there  were  many  and  va 
rious  minds  ;  some  supposing  that  he  must  have  waded 
in  to  secure  something  which  he  saw  floating  near  the 
shore  ;  others,  that  he  had  risen  in  his  sleep  and  gone  in ; 
while  yet  others  considered  either  of  these  suppositions 
to  be  highly  improbable,  since  some  of  the  young  men 
now  made  known  the  fact  that  Seth  was  an  expert  swim 
mer.  These  and  many  other  conjectures,  equally  errone 
ous,  were  formed  respecting  the  mysterious  event,  till, 
wearied  with  the  fruitless  discussion,  it  was  given  up  as 
a  case  entirely  hopeless  of  elucidation,  and  it  was,  there 
fore,  permitted  to  rest. 

Seth  had  been  a  peculiar  favorite  with  the  family  gen 
erally,  and  his  loss,  for  many  days,  cast  a  deep  gloom 
over  the  minds  of  the  little  community,  who  were  thus 
unexpectedly  called  to  mourn  his  premature  decease. 
The  impression,  however,  like  all  others  of  the  kind,  wore 
gradually  away  from  the  minds  of  all  except  the  bereaved 
Martha  and  the  conscience-smitten  elder,  from  whose 
bosoms  the  memory  of  the  lost  one,  for  reasons  peculiar 
to  each,  was  not,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  so  easily  to 
be  erased. 

Although  the  circumstances  in  which  Martha  was 
placed  forbade  any  manifestation  of  her  peculiar  griefs, 
and  wholly  precluded  her  from  communicating  them  to 
others,  and  receiving  in  return  those  alleviating  sympa 
thies  which  it  is  the  privilege  of  ordinary  sorrow  to  re 
ceive,  yet  none  the  less  heavy  for  that  fell  this  blow  of 
affliction,  and  none  the  less  keenly  was  felt  the  anguish 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  289 

which  now  in  secret  wrung  her  guileless  and  faithful 
bosom.  Young  Love  was  beginning  to  shed  his  sweet 
and  happifying  influences  over  her  pure  and  gentle  heart, 
and  his  twin  angel,  Hope,  had  just  showed  his  snowy 
pinion  to  her  unaccustomed  vision,  pointing  her  to  a 
land  of  earthly  felicity,  which  never  before,  even  in  her 
brightest  dreams,  had  been  pictured  to  her  mind.  But 
all  these  grateful  feelings  had  been  suddenly  chilled  and 
frozen  in  the  current  that  was  so  blissfully  wafting  her 
away  to  the  promised  haven  of  happiness  —  all  these 
bright  visions  had  vanished,  leaving  her  future  not  only 
blank  and  cheerless,  but  dark  with  portents  of  persecution 
and  woe,  from  which  there  was  little  hope  of  escaping. 
These  circumstances  combined  to  render  the  poor  girl's 
loss  no  ordinary  bereavement ;  and  most  persons  of  her 
natural  sensibilities  would  probably  have  sunk  under  the 
weight  of  the  affliction.  But  Martha  was  a  Christian ; 
and  she  meekly  bowed  beneath  the  chastening  rod,  and 
turned  for  consolation  to  that  life-spring  on  high,  which 
is  never  long  a  sealed  fountain  to  the  true  and  devoted 
followers  of  Him  who  once  himself  knew  earthly  sorrows. 
But  while  Martha  was  thus  comforted  and  sustained, 
no  such  consolation  remained  for  the  despicable  wretch 
who  had  been  the  cause  of  her  troubles ;  and  the  more 
he  tried  to  still  his  startled  conscience,  the  more  did  its  ac 
cusing  spirit  rise  up  to  disquiet  him,  not  only  for  the  hand 
he  had  in  the  young  man's  death,  but  for  the  part  he  had 
previously  acted  towards  him,  in  his  general  misusage, 
and  more  particularly  in  an  affair  to  which  only  a  slight 
allusion  has  been  made.  About  a  month  previous  to  the 
time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  a  stranger  arrived  from 
the  neighborhood  of  Seth's  early  residence,  bearing  for  him 
25 


290  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

a  letter,  which  he  expressed  a  desire  to  deliver  in  person ; 
but  the  young  man  being  at  work  in  the  woods,  some 
distance  from  home,  and  the  stranger  being  anxious  to 
resume  his  journey,  the  letter  was  at  length  intrusted  to 
Higgins,  on  his  promise  of  delivering  it  to  Seth  as  soon 
as  he  returned.  Having  repeated  his  injunctions,  the  mes 
senger  departed,  not,  however,  till  the  inquisitive  elder 
had  fished  out  of  him,  as  cautious  as  he  evidently  in 
tended  to  be,  some  clew  to  the  contents  of  the  letter. 
And  no  sooner  was  the  stranger's  back  fairly  turned  than 
Higgins  retired  to  a  private  apartment,  and  broke  open 
the  letter,  which  proved  to  be  from  a  neighbor  of  Seth's 
uncle,  whom  we  have  before  mentioned,  and  which  an 
nounced  the  successive  deaths,  within  a  few  days  of  each 
other,  of  that  uncle  and  the  nephew  living  with  him,  by 
which  event,  it  was  stated,  as  no  will  had  been  made  by 
either,  Seth  had  become  the  legal  heir  to  all  the  estate 
thus  left,  consisting  of  a  good  farm  and  considerable 
personal  property.  The  writer  closed  by  advising  the 
young  man  to  leave  his  present  situation,  come  home, 
and  take  possession  of  his  property.  After  reading  the 
letter  carefully  over  several  times,  the  perfidious  elder 
committed  it  to  the  flames,  and  spent  the  remainder  of 
the  day  in  devising  and  settling  his  plans,  and  in  draw 
ing  up  for  Seth's  signature  an  acquittance  to  the  family 
of  all  the  property  of  which  he  had,  or  might,  become 
the  inheritor.  And  the  next  day,  after  having  smoothed 
the  way  for  the  attempt,  as  he  supposed,  by  an  unusual 
display  of  affability  and  parent-like  kindness,  he  cau 
tiously  broached  the  subject  to  the  young  man,  tried  to 
induce  him  to  sign  the  paper,  falsely  affirming  it  to  be 
one  of  their  regulations  to  require  such  an  act  of  the 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  291 

young  members  of  their  society,  whether  they  had  any 
property  or  not,  when  they  arrived  at  legal  age,  at  which 
Seth,  as  it  happened,  had,  a  few  days  before,  attained. 
The  latter,  however,  secretly  meditating  upon  leaving 
the  family  soon,  had  no  notion  of  cutting  himself  off 
from  any  right  of  property  which  might  some  day  accrue 
to  him,  though  now  he  certainly  had  no  such  expecta 
tion  ;  and  he  therefore  firmly  refused  to  comply  with  the 
elder's  request.  After  renewing  the  attempt  several  times, 
and  resorting  to  every  art  and  falsehood  which  he  thought 
likely  to  aid  him  in  his  purpose,  Higgins  was  compelled 
to  relinquish  his  fraudulent  design,  with  no  other  result 
than  that  of  exciting  the  suspicions  of  Seth  that  there 
might  have,  indeed,  something  occurred  at  his  uncle's,  in 
his  favor,  and  of  hastening  his  determination  to  leave, 
and  go  and  see  for  himself. 

It  was  no  wonder,  then,  when  all  these  injuries,  closed 
as  the  dark  catalogue  was  by  the  death  of  the  victim, 
rose  in  review  before  the  mind  of  the  guilty  elder,  that 
his  conscience  troubled  him.  He  had  not,  it  is  true, 
really  intended  quite  to  destroy  the  young  man's  life  ; 
but  he  could  not  disguise  from  himself  that  his  acts,  ma 
licious  and  wicked  in  themselves,  had  as  much  produced 
the  fatal  result  as  if  his  own  hand  had  dealt  the  death 
blow,  and  that,  too,  under  feelings  but  little  less  holy 
than  he  need  to  have  possessed  to  have  rendered  the 
deed  the  foulest  in  the  list  of  human  crimes.  In  vain 
did  he  try  to  shut  out  these  disquieting  thoughts  from 
his  mind ;  in  vain  did  he  try,  by  quibbling  and  sophistry, 
to  still  the  voice  of  conscience ;  and  he  soon  became  the 
prey  of  the  most  horrible  fancies.  He  remembered  the 
accidental  threat  made  by  Seth  among  the  last  things  ho 


292  THT5    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

uttered  — "/  will  haunt  you  when  I  am  dead;"  and  the 
fearful  words,  "  /  will  haunt  you  when  I  am  dead  —  /  will 
haunt  you  when  I  am  dead"  rang  constantly  in  his  ears. 
And  so  strong  were  his  guilty  fears,  and  so  nervous  and 
excitable  had  he  become,  that  to  him  the  menace  was 
often  literally  fulfilled  in  the  dread  shapings  of  his  dis 
tempered  imagination.  By  day  he  appeared  abstracted 
or  restless  —  now  heedless  and  lost  to  every  thing  around 
him,  and  now  wildly  starting  at  the  rustling  of  every  leaf; 
and  by  night  roaring  out  in  his  sleep,  and  disturbing  his 
wondering  people  by  his  strange  and  almost  unearthly 
outcries. 

Such  was  the  punishment  of  the  miserable  elder ;  but 
whether  this  was  not  rather  the  result  of  his  fears  than 
any  sincere  repentance  tending  to  make  him  a  better 
man,  we  will  not  attempt  to  decide.  One  thing,  how 
ever,  is  certain  —  it  operated  greatly  to  the  relief  of  the 
before-persecuted  Martha ;  for,  from  that  eventful  night 
on  which  she  parted  with  her  lover,  she  saw,  for  several 
weeks,  no  indications  of  any  renewal  of  her  trials.  Much, 
indeed,  did  she  wonder  to  what  cause  she  owed  this  happy 
exemption  ;  though  she  believed  it,  without  being  able  to 
tell  why,  to  have  some  connection  with  the  fate  of  Seth, 
concerning  which  a  horrid  suspicion  occasionally  flitted 
across  her  mind.  She  tried,  however,  to  banish  such  sus 
picions  from  her  thoughts,  and  charitably  strove  to  believe 
that  her  persecutor  had  been  brought  to  condemn  his  own 
conduct  towards  her,  and  had,  in  consequence,  laid  aside 
his  designs  against  her  peace.  But  she  at  length  began 
to  perceive  that  her  hopes  were  to  be  disappointed ;  she 
again  began  to  perceive  that,  in  the  demeanor  of  the  elder 
towards  her,  which  told  her  that  she  was  still  the  marked 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

victim  of  his  unhallowed  designs.  And  from  day  to  day 
she  once  more  lived  in  the  constant  dread  of  being  again 
summoned  to  the  scene  of  her  former  trials.  Nor  was 
such  summons  long  delayed.  One  day,  as  the  family 
were  retiring  from  their  noon  meals,  the  elder  approached 
the  terrified  girl,  and  notified  her  to  meet  him  alone,  after 
worship,  the  coming  evening,  in  the  room  which  he  had 
formerly  desecrated  by  his  infamous  conduct.  But  the 
hapless  maiden  was  not  reserved  for  so  wretched  a  fate 
as  that  which  seemed  to  hang  so  menacingly  over  her. 
An  unexpected  incident  intervened  between  her  and  that 
dreaded  hour  which  was  destined  to  form  the  most  im 
portant  era  in  her  life,  while  it  brought  defeat  and  con 
fusion  upon  her  enemy. 
25* 


294  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

IT  was  a  mild  and  pleasant  afternoon  in  November, 
just  four  weeks  after  the  melancholy  event  before  de 
scribed.  Martha  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  common 
working-rooms  of  the  women,  at  work  with  several  of 
the  sisterhood,  some  of  whom,  like  herself,  were  engaged 
in  sewing,  some  at  the  loom,  and  some  at  the  distaff.  As 
she  sat  plying  her  needle,  an  air  of  deep  pensiveness, 
sweetly  tempered,  however,  by  resignation,  was  resting 
on  her  lovely  brow.  She  had  been  viewing  with  dis 
mayed  feelings  and  gloomy  apprehensions  the  dismal 
prospect  before  her ;  but  having  schooled  those  feelings 
into  submission  to  whatever  fate  Providence  might  allot 
her,  she  had  turned  to  the  images  of  the  past,  and  her 
mind  was  now  wandering  among  the  dearest  memories 
of  her  existence.  She  recalled  the  almost  forgotten  cir 
cumstance,  that  the  ensuing  night  was  the  one  proposed 
by  her  departed  lover  for  his  return  to  meet  her,  and  a 
thousand  mournful  fancies  took  possession  of  her  mind. 
She  imagined  how,  had  her  lover  lived,  her  heart  would 
now  be  fluttering  at  the  thought  of  the  approaching 
meeting ;  and  then  her  excited  imagination  took  wing, 
and  she  wondered  if  it  was  not  true,  as  she  had  sorne- 
times  heard,  that  the  dead  were  permitted  to  keep  the 
appointments  made  by  them  while  living,  and  come  in 
spirit  to  the  place  to  meet  and  commune  with  their 
friends;  and,  if  so,  whether,  should  she  repair  to  the 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


295 


trysting  tree,  at  the  appointed  hour,  Seth  would  not  be 
there  to  meet  her.  Faith  and  love  answered  yea ;  and 
conscious  of  nothing  which  should  cause  her  to  fear  such 
a  meeting,  at  which,  perhaps,  heavenly  counsel  might  be 
imparted  to  guide  and  direct  her  in  her  threatened  diffi 
culties,  she  half  resolved  to  brave  the  summons  of  the 
elder  to  meet  him  at  the  same  hour,  and  go  to  keep  her 
appointment  with  the  deceased.  While  she  was  thus  in 
dulging  in  these  sadly-pleasing  reveries,  her  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  sound  of  a  strange  voice  in  the  yard  below, 
belonging  to  some  one  who  had  just  arrived,  and  was  now 
engaged  in  conversation  with  several  of  the  Shaker  men. 
Thinking  there  was  something  peculiar  in  the  careless, 
rattling  manner  of  the  new  comer's  discourse,  she  arose 
and  went  to  the  window,  when  it  was  \vith  a  mixture  of 
wonder  and  surprise  that  she  beheld  the  singular  and 
vagabond  appearance  of  the  man  who  had  attracted  her 
attention.  His  dress  was  not  only  tattered  and  patched, 
but  ill  fitting  and  whimsical,  consisting  of  small-clothes 
altogether  too  big,  with  a  coat  as  much  too  little ;  and 
these  were  surmounted  by  an  old  straw  hat  entirely  rim 
less  before,  and  not  much  better  behind.  He  was  evi 
dently  quite  a  young  man,  and,  but  for  a  certain  kind  of 
foolish,  staring  cast  of  countenance,  would  have  been 
accounted  very  good  looking.  He  seemed  quite  at  home 
among  his  new  acquaintances,  and  was  not  at  all  bash 
ful  about  making  inquiries,  many  of  which  were  so  very 
simple  and  childish  as  to  provoke  a  smile  upon  the  sober 
visages  even  of  the  elders  themselves.  After  asking  a 
thousand  foolish  questions,  and  rattling  away  a  while 
disconnectedly  and  witlessly  enough  to  have  made  a 
good  prototype  for  John  Bunyan's  Talkative,  he  carelessly 


296  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

observed,  that,  as  for  himself,  he  was  now  entirely  out  of 
work,  and  out  of  any  home;  and  he  really  wished  he 
could  find  some  good  place  to  live,  where  he  could  get 
enough  to  eat,  for  he  sat  a  great  deal  by  victuals. 

Instantly  taking  the  hint  from  this  observation  of  the 
vagabond,  and  believing  him  to  be  about  simple  enough 
to  make  them  a  good  subject,  the  Shaker  leaders  were  not 
slow  to  propose  to  him  to  join  the  family,  and  at  once  to 
take  up  his  residence  at  their  establishment.  To  this  the 
fellow  replied,  that  he  "  had  often  hearn  say  that  the  Shak 
ers  were  a  mighty  good  sort  of  people,  and  he  had  some 
times  been  almost  a  good  mind  to  go  and  live  with  them, 
but  as  he  had  never  seen  them  before,  he  should  like  to 
go  round  and  look  at  things  a  little  before  he  told  them 
for  sartin  about  staying;  and  if  they  would  give  him 
something  to  eat,  and  then  let  him  go  all  round  where  he 
was  a  mind  to,  that  afternoon,  he  would  tell  them  at 
night  what  he  would  do." 

The  man  was  accordingly  soon  furnished  with  an  ex 
cellent  meal,  at  which  he  appeared  highly  delighted. 
After  this,  free  permission  having  been  granted  him  for 
the  purpose,  he  commenced  his  rambles  over  the  farm, 
through  the  barns,  yards,  and  outhouses,  inspecting  the 
crops,  stock,  and  every  thing  connected  with  the  estab 
lishment,  with  childish  curiosity,  and  the  greatest  appar 
ent  interest,  often  leaving  the  objects  of  his  examination, 
and  running  to  the  Shakers,  to  ask  some  question,  and 
then  racing  back,  in  high  glee,  to  his  employment.  When 
he  appeared  to  have  satisfied  himself  with  viewing  every 
thing  out  of  doors,  he  went  to  the  elders,  and  told  them 
"  he  now  wanted  to  see  the  women  works.  He  didn't,  to 
be  sure,  think  women  of  much  use  generally,  but,  as  they 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


297 


had  to  get  the  victuals  and  make  the  clothes,  he  should 
like  mighty  well  to  go  in  a  while  and  see  how  they 
carried  on." 

Although  this  was  contrary  to  their  general  custom, 
yet  the  leaders,  conceiving  they  had  the  making  of  a 
good  proselyte  at  stake,  and  evidently  viewing  the  fellow 
as  a  weak-minded,  harmless  creature,  soon  concluded  to 
humor  him  in  this  freak,  as  they  had  done  in  every  thing 
else ;  and  therefore  they  told  him  to  behave  well,  but  go 
where  he  pleased. 

Quickly  availing  himself  of  the  permission,  he  began 
the  rounds  of  the  different  female  lodges,  making,  how 
ever,  but  a  brief  stay  in  any  one  till  he  came  to  the  room 
where  Martha  was  at  work  with  the  small  party  of  her 
companions.  Here  he  leisurely  walked  round,  viewing, 
with  an  air  of  wondering  simplicity,  the  work  of  these 
demure  artisans,  making  his  silly  comments,  and,  as 
usual,  asking  a  variety  of  irrelevant  questions,  and, 
among  the  rest,  the  names  of  all  the  different  females  in 
the  apartment. 

Although  the  conduct  and  conversation  of  the  stranger 
went  clearly  to  show  him  to  be  a  very  great  simpleton, 
yet  there  was  a  certain  something  about  him  which  soon 
led  the  discerning  Martha  to  doubt  whether  he  was  quite 
what  he  pretended,  or  rather,  what  all  the  rest  of  the 
family  obviously  considered  him.  And  that  doubt  was 
greatly  strengthened,  in  a  short  time,  as,  looking  up,  she 
caught  him  fixing  a  keen,  steady,  intelligent  look  upon 
her  face,  entirely  at  variance  with  the  vacant,  or  idiotic, 
expression  which  had  thus  far  seemed  to  characterize  his 
features.  And  it  was  with  a  sort  of  undefinable  interest 
that,  the  next  moment,  she  saw  him  approaching  her  as 


298  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

he  now  did.  with  the  remark  that  "  he  wanted  to  see  what 
this  woman  was  making  too."  Accordingly,  he  took  up 
part  of  the  work  lying  in  her  lap,  when,  as  he  was  flour 
ishing  it  about,  under  pretence  of  examining  it,  he  slyly 
dropped  a  small,  closely-sealed  billet  into  her  open  hand. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  her  fingers  close  over  the  paper,  he 
threw  down  the  work  over  her  hand  containing  the  billet, 
and  with  the  eagerly-whispered  injunction,  "  Read  and 
give  me  token"  whipped  off  to  look  at  something  else 
which  seemed  suddenly  to  have  caught  his  attention. 

Feigning  some  errand  out,  Martha  soon  rose  and  dis 
appeared  on  her  way  to  her  private  chamber.  In  a  few 
moments  the  stranger  returned  to  finish  his  inspection  of 
Martha's  work,  during  which,  though  as  busy  and  talk 
ative  as  ever,  he  might  have  been  seen  to  throw  many  a 
keen  and  anxious  glance  towards  the  door  through  which 
the  fair  absentee  was  expected  to  return.  At  length  she 
made  her  appearance.  A  close  observer  would  have  at 
once  noticed  that,  during  her  absence,  she  had  been  agi 
tated  by  powerful  emotions,  and  had  wept  profusely; 
and  yet,  through  the  subsiding  shower,  the  first  smile 
that  had  lit  up  her  face  for  a  month  was  stealing  over 
her  lovely  features,  while  any  thing  but  displeasure 
marked  the  general  expression  of  her  glowing  counte 
nance. 

On  entering  the  room,  she  went  immediately  to  an 
eldress,  and,  with  the  air  of  one  slightly  annoyed,  asked 
if  she  had  not  better  hint  to  the  man  the  propriety  of  his 
now  retiring;  and  having  received  permission  to  do  so, 
she  approached  him,  and,  with  a  look  which  he  seemed 
readily  to  understand,  observed,  — 

u  Thy  visit,  friend,  has  been  very  acceptable,  and  thy 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  299 

communications  shall  be  heeded ;  but  we  think  that  now, 
perhaps,  thee  would  find  more  to  divert  thee  among  the 
men  in  the  field." 

With  some  careless  remarks  in  good  keeping  with  the 
character  he  had  been  acting,  the  man  immediately  left 
the  apartment  and  proceeded  to  the  field,  where  the  men 
were  at  work,  and  where,  in  chatting  with  them,  trying 
his  hand  occasionally  at  their  work,  and  rambling  over 
the  premises,  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon 
apparently  highly  delighted  with  his  situation. 


300  THE    SHAKER    I, OVERS. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

WHEN  the  family  assembled  for  supper,  however,  the 
fellow  was  unaccountably  missing;  but  the  Shakers,  hav 
ing  seen  so  much  of  his  erratic  movements,  and  suppos 
ing  him  still  to  be  somewhere  about  the  farm  or  build 
ings,  did  not  seem  to  pay  much  attention  to  the  circum 
stance,  or  think  it  worth  their  while  to  institute  any  search 
for  him  ;  and  their  evening  meal,  through  all  the  different 
departments  of  the  family,  passed  off  with  customary 
quietness. 

After  finishing  their  repast,  as  usual,  the  whole  family, 
just  as  the  stars  were  beginning  to  twinkle  in  the  clear 
blue  of  the  November  sky,  took  their  way  to  the  house 
of  worship,  which  was  an  unenclosed  building  opening 
to  the  road,  a  branch  of  which  turned  up  and  ran  directly 
by  the  doors.  The  ceremonies  of  worship,  also,  were 
attended  with  no  unusual  occurrence,  and  being  con 
cluded,  the  assembly  broke  up  to  return  to  their  respec 
tive  lodges.  But  on  opening  the  doors  and  coming  out 
on  the  steps,  the  foremost  of  the  company,  to  their  sur 
prise,  beheld  a  horse  and  chaise  drawn  up  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  door  allotted  to  the  use  of  the  females,  the 
door  for  the  males  being  some  thirty  feet  towards  the 
other  end  of  the  house.  By  the  side  of  the  horse,  a  man, 
young  and  neatly  dressed,  as  far  as  his  appearance  could 
be  judged  of  by  starlight,  stood  holding  the  reins  and 
whip,  with  his  face  turned  towards  the  door,  and  in  the 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 


301 


seeming  attitude  of  waiting.  The  women  came  hesi 
tating  down  the  steps,  and,  there  coming  to  a  stand, 
began  timidly  and  silently  to  stretch  forward  their  heads 
and  peer  at  the  mysterious  stranger.  The  men,  also, 
coming  out,  and  seeing  the  unexpected  visitant  and  his 
equipage  stationed  across  the  path  of  the  women,  began, 
with  low-whispered  inquiries  of  one  another,  to  gather 
towards  the  spot.  In  this  stage  of  the  affair,  Elder  Hig- 
gins,  who  had  purposed  to  remain  in  the  house  till  all 
had  retired,  that  he  might  pass  unobserved  to  the  room 
where  he  was  expecting  the  next  moment  to  meet  the 
victim  of  his  designs,  became  impatient  at  the  tardy 
movement  of  the  people,  and  came  bustling  through  the 
throng,  with  a  light  in  his  hand,  to  ascertain  the  cause 
of  the  delay,  when  the  stranger  turned  suddenly  round 
and  confronted  him.  The  instant. the  light  struck  upon 
the  face  of  the  latter,  the  recoiling  elder  uttered  a  convul 
sive  shriek,  and,  with  wildly-glaring  eyes  and  chattering 
teeth,  sunk  down  upon  the  ground  in  horror  and  affright 
at  the  apparition  which  he  believed  he  had  beheld.  A 
commotion  was  now  observed  among  the  huddling  and 
startled  females;  and,  the  next  moment,  a  light  figure 
rapidly  made  her  way  to  the  front  of  the  crowd. 

"  It  is  ! "  she  exclaimed  in  low,  eager  accents,  after  a 
momentary  pause.  "  It  is  —  O,  it  is  he!"  she  repeated, 
and,  springing  forward,  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of 
the  stranger,  who,  lightly  swinging  her  into  the  seat  of 
his  vehicle,  turned  again  towards  the  crowd. 

"  Viper!"  he  exclaimed,  advancing  with  brandished  fist 
close  to  the  appalled  and  nearly  prostrate  elder  —  "viper, 
thou  art  baffled !  " 

With  this  he  turned  quickly  about,  leaped  nimbly  into 
26 


302  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

his  seat  by  the  side  of  the  fair  companion  he  had  just 
placed  there,  applied  the  whip  to  his  horse,  and  dashed 
forward  for  the  main  road,  leaving  the  whole  assembled 
family  of  Shakers  standing  aghast  and  bewildered  with 
astonishment  and  perplexity  at  what  had  so  suddenly 
and  inexplicably  passed  before  them. 

As  dreadfully  frightened  as  the  guilt-smitten  elder  had 
been,  yet  he  was  the  first  to  comprehend  the  mystery  and 
rally  for  the  rescue. 

"  The  fiend! "  he  fiercely  cried,  leaping  up  and  pointing 
with  frantic  gestures  after  the  departing  carriage,  "  O,  the 
fiend !  The  apostate,  the  reprobate,  the  godless  repro 
bate  is  carrying  off  Martha !  Pursue  him !  stop  him  ! 
catch  him!  save  her  from  the  villain!  Run  —  run,  for 
your  lives  —  or  they  will  escape  us!" 

Roused  by  the  commands  and  the  eager  and  furious 
manner  of  their  leader,  the  men,  followed  by  the  women, 
rushed  promiscuously  down  the  road  in  pursuit  of  the 
fugitives ;  but  scarcely  had  they  passed  the  line  of  the 
buildings  in  this  disorderly  rout,  and  gained  the  main 
road  where  it  became  enclosed  by  fences,  when  a  rope 
suddenly  sprang  from  the  dust  across  the  path  against 
the  legs  or  uplifted  feet  of  the  foremost  rank  of  the  pur 
suers  ;  and  the  next  instant  a  platoon  of  Quakers  were 
rolling  and  sprawling  on  the  ground,  while  those  in  the 
rear,  unable  to  check  their  speed  in  time  to  save  them 
selves,  came,  rank  after  rank,  successively  tumbling  and 
floundering  down  at  the  backs  of  their  fallen  companions, 
till  nearly  the  whole  bevy  were  prostrate  and  scrambling 
on  all  fours  in  the  road. 

At  this  juncture  the  wild,  rattling  laugh  of  the  missing 
vagabond  was  heard  behind  the  stone  fence  over  against 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  303 

one  end  of  the  mischief-making  spring  rope;  and,  the 
next  instant,  a  gayly-dressed  young  man  leaped  lightly 
over  the  fence  into  the  road,  and  made  a  brief  pause  a 
few  paces  ahead  of  the  fallen  and  confused  forces  of  the 
pursuing  enemy. 

"  May  be,  friends,"  he  said  in  a  half-jovial,  half-com 
miserating  tone,  as  he  glanced  at  the  disorderly  plight  of 
his  recent  entertainers,  "  may  be  you  don't  know  me  with 
my  Sunday  clothes  on.  Well,  well,  good  people,  perhaps 
it  is  indeed  rather  a  provoking  case  for  you ;  but  here  are 
about  twenty  yards  of  good  new  rope  which  I  will  leave 
you,  by  way  of  amends  for  your  hospitality  this  after 
noon  and  your  tumble  this  evening.  It  is  the  best  I  can 
do  for  you  now,  I  believe ;  though  if  you  should  ever 
cage  another  such  rare  bird  as  the  one  just  flown  yonder, 
and  should  be  in  want  of  more  rope —  But  I  can't 
stay  to  chat  now ;  so  good-by,  Thee  and  Thou,  good-by 
to  ye*" 

So  saying,  and  leaving  the  discomfited  Shakers  to 
gather  themselves  up  in  the  best  way  they  could,  he 
bounded  forwards  a  few  rods,  leaped  upon  a  horse  which 
stood  tied  in  a  nook  in  the  fence,  and  galloped  off  after 
the  receding  carriage,  now  rattling  away  in  the  distance. 


"  And  what  then  ?  "  I  asked,  perceiving  that  the  narra 
tor  had  come  to  a  stand,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had 
arrived  at  the  end  of  his  story.  "What  then  —  what 
next  happened  ?  " 

"Why,  nothing  very  unnatural,  I  believe,"  replied  my 


304  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

host,  with  a  humorous  smile,  "  unless  you  make  out  to 
the  contrary  from  the  fact  that  an  old  justice  of  the  peace, 
living  some  eight  or  ten  miles  from  the  scene  of  action, 
was  called  up  that  night  to  do  a  little  business  in  the 
marrying  line." 

"  And  the  bride  on  the  occasion  ?  "  I  asked,  somewhat 
puzzled  to  comprehend  the  development.  "  The  bride 
was  your  heroine,  Martha,  of  course  ;  but  the  bridegroom  ? 
Not  Seth,  surely;  for  he  was  drowned,  you  know." 

"  Perhaps,  friend,"  answered  my  host  with  waggish 
gravity,  "  perhaps  he  was  not  drowned  as  much  as  some, 
after  all ;  but  rising  to  the  surface  after  his  unlucky 
plunge,  and  seeing  the  wicked  attitude  of  the  elder,  sud 
denly  changed  his  plan,  and  so  sinking  under  again,  with 
some  little  show  of  drowning,  and  with  a  kick  or  two  to 
make  the  bubbles  rise,  came  up  silently  under  a  neigh 
boring  clump  of  bushes  —  crept  away,  with  the  loss  of 
his  shoe  and  broadbrim  —  went  to  a  young  farmer  of  his 
acquaintance  —  exchanged  his  wet  Quaker  gear  for  a 
decent  suit  of  clothes,  and  set  off  for  the  residence  of  his 
late  uncle,  where  he  arrived  the  next  day,  and,  to  his 
agreeable  surprise,  found  himself  in  possession  of  one  of 
the  best  little  farms  on  the  Merrimack,  and  where,  in 
due  time,  he,  in  conjunction  with  a  new-made  young 
friend  there,  concocted  the  plan  which  you  have  seen 
executed." 

"  A  romantic  coming  out,  upon  my  soul !  "  I  exclaimed 
in  delight.  "  Well,  then,  you  knew  the  parties  ?  —  are 
they  still  alive  ?  " 

«  Ay." 

"  Do  they  reside  in  this  vicinity  ?  " 


THE    SHAKER    LOVERS.  305 

* 

"  Ay,  again." 

"  Why,  I  would  go  almost  any  distance  to  see  them." 

"  You  would  have  no  very  serious  journey  to  perform 
for  that  purpose,  sir,"  he  replied  significantly. 

"  Why  ?  how  ?  "  I  asked,  still  in  doubt  respecting  the 
full  development. 

"  Why,  verily,  my  friend,"  said  my  host,  casting  an 
arch  look  at  my  perplexed  countenance,  and  speaking 
in  the  Quaker  dialect,  "  verily,  thee  art  not  so  shrewd  a 
guesser  as  I  had  supposed  thee,  else  thee  had  smelt  the 
rat  long  ago." 

"Stupid!"  I  cried,  "stupid  indeed!  But  I  see  it  all 
now.  The  hero,  Seth,  is  here  before  me ;  and  the  hero 
ine,  the  good  Martha  —  " 

"  Run  away,"  he  interrupted  laughingly,  "  run  away, 
as  you  might  have  noticed,  perhaps,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  description  by  which  she  was  introduced,  as  we  went 
on  with  the  story.  But  the  hero,  being  more  modestly 
described,  made  out  to  stand  the  racket  without  run 
ning." 

"  One  more  question  only,"  said  I.  "  The  young  friend 
who,  in  the  character  of  a  vagabond,  took  your  letter  to 
Martha,  and  so  finely  managed  the  affair  —  " 

"  Was  also  from  this  neighborhood,"  he  replied.  "  You 
noticed,  perhaps,  as  you  came  along,  a  mile  or  two  back, 
a  two-story  white  house,  with  an  office  in  the  yard?  " 

"  I  did  —  thinking  it  a  very  neat  establishment,"  I  an 
swered. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  rejoined,  "  that  is  the  —  though,  per 
haps,  Esquire  Wentworth  would  not  thank  me  for  telling 
of  his  pranks  when  he  first  started  life  as  a  lawyer.  It 
26* 


306  THE    SHAKER    LOVERS. 

was  the  making  of  the  man,  however.  People,  seeing 
how  cleverly  he  had  managed  a  love  case,  concluded  he 
would  be  no  slouch  at  a  law  case,  if  he  had  one.  He 
rose  rapidly  after  that.  But  enough  of  this.  Seth  and 
Martha,  my  children ! "  he  continued,  calling  to  his  eldest 
boy  and  girl,  still  up  and  reading  in  the  kitchen,  "  one  of 
you  take  a  mug,  and  the  other  a  candle,  and  go  down 
and  draw  us  a  mug  of  the  best  cider  in  the  cellar.  This 
Shaker  story  has  made  my  throat  as  dry  as  a  tin  trumpet." 


ETHAN  ALLEN 


THE   LOST    CHILDREN. 


IT  is  often  less  difficult,  perhaps,  to  awaken  the  sym 
pathy  of  the  reader  by  the  portraying  of  fiction  than 
by  the  recital  of  facts.  And  many  a  .writer,  we  doubt 
not,  who  might  have  easily  produced  a  very  thrilling 
fancy  sketch,  has  paused  over  incidents  of  actual  occur 
rence  calculated  to  arouse  the  deepest  emotions  of  the 
heart,  with  a  painful  consciousness  of  his  inability  to 
present  them  in  such  a  manner  as  should  insure  the  in 
terest  and  effect  which  legitimately  belong  to  them. 
Such,  at  all  events,  are  our  feelings,  as  we  take  up  our 
pen  to  describe  an  incident  of  the  early  settlement,  well 
known  and  often  rehearsed,  among  the  unwritten  stories 
of  the  times,  by  the  inhabitants  of  that  section  of  coun 
try  where  it  occurred.  And  if  we  can  but  succeed  in 
writing  up  to  nature,  or  even  exciting  in  the  reader  one 
moiety  of  the  feeling  that  agitated  the  bosoms  of  the 
actors  in  the  scene  as  it  transpired,  we  shall  not  need  a 
single  touch  from  the  hand  of  fancy  to  add  interest  or 
pathos  to  our  description. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  last  day  of  May,  1780,  the  wife 
of  a  settler  might  have  been  seen  sitting  at  her  spinning- 


308  ETHAN    ALLEN 

wheel  at  the  open  door  of  her  log  cottage,  situated  in  one 
of  the  secluded  vales  of  Sunderland,  an  interior  town 
lying  along  the  western  slope  of  the  Green  Mountains. 
The  day  being  quite  warm  and  pleasant,  she  had  drawn 
out  her  wheel  thither,  that,  while  pursuing  the  labors  of 
the  distaff,  she  might  inhale  the  odorous  breezes  of  the 
season,  and  enjoy  the  wild  but  pleasing  prospect  present 
ed  in  the  thousand  slopes  and  swells  of  the  far-stretching 
mountain  wilderness,  over  which  Nature  had  just  thrown 
her  gorgeous  mantle  of  living  green,  brightly  relieved  and 
variegated,  at  intervals,  by  the  pure  white  of  the  blossom 
ing  shadwood,  and  the  varying  hues  of  other  flowering 
shrubs,  which,  at  that  season,  beautify  the  appearance 
and  make  sweet  the  breath  of  the  forest.  For  deem  not, 
ye  book-made  connoisseurs  of  the  beautiful  and  magnifi 
cent —  deem  not  the  pleasures  of  taste  exclusively  your 
own,  because  you  can  give  learned  names  to  your  sensa 
tions.  The  humblest  cottagers  of  our  mountains,  though 
they  may  not  be  able  to  define  their  emotions  in  the  exact 
terms  of  art,  yet  enjoy  the  beauties  of  nature  with  as 
lively  a  relish  as  yourselves,  and  are  even  more  inclined, 
we  have  often  thought,  to  view  them  with  that  higher, 
holier  feeling  which  they  ever  should  inspire  —  that  feeling 
which  causes  the  soul,  as  it  contemplates,  to  send  up  the 
incense  of  its  silent  adorations  to  Him  who  made  earth 
so  lovely  for  creatures  who  so  dully  appreciate  the  boon, 
constituting,  as  it  does,  one  of  the  most  striking  of  all  his 
manifold  blessings. 

The  woman  we  have  introduced  was  not  only  a  wife, 
but  a  mother ;  and,  while  she  was  seen  occasionally  to 
send  a  glance  of  affection  towards  her  hardy  husband, 
bending  over  his  hoe  in  an  adjoining  field,  her  eyes,  beam- 


AiND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN. 


309 


ing  with  all  a  parent's  tenderness  and  pride,  even  still 
more  often  turned  upon  her  children,  two  sprightly  little 
girls,  of  the  ages  of  five  and  seven,  who  were  playing  in 
the  yard  before  her. 

"  Mother !  "  exclaimed  the  elder  of  the  two  girls,  stop 
ping  short  in  her  gambols  at  the  thought  that  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  struck  her  —  "  mother,  when  I  went  yes 
terday  with  father  alongside  of  the  woods  over  yonder,  I 
saw  —  O,  such  sights  and  sights  of  pretty  flowers!  — 
adder-tongues,  violets,  and  all,  which  he  wouldn't  let  me 
have  time  to  get.  Now  mayn't  we  go  there  and  'gather 
some  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  my  child,"  good  natured- 
ly  replied  the  mother.  <"  You  are  such  a  little  romp,  that 
if  you  once  get  into  the  \voods,  you  will  be  sure  to  run 
till  you  get  lost,  I  fear,  and  • —  " 

"  O,  but  we  won't  go  into  the  woods,  only  a  little, 
leetle  wrays,  mother,"  interrupted  the  child. 

"  And  then,"  resumed  the  anxious  mother,  without 
heeding  the  interruption  —  "  and  then  it  is  but  a  short  dis 
tance  to  Roaring  Branch,  where  you  might  get  drowned. 
I  bad  rather  you  would  go  to  your  father,  children." 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  woods  and  get  the  flowers  first, 
and  then  we'll  go  to  father.  We  won't  get  lost,  certain, 
certain  —  so  now  do,  mother,"  persisted  the  little  plead 
er,  looking  up  beseechingly  into  the  other's  face. 

The  mother  still  shook  her  head,  but  with  so  kindly  a 
smile  that  the  quick  eye  of  the  child  saw  that  her  pur 
pose  was  won,  and  joyously  shouting,  "  O,  we  may ! "  she 
bounded  away,  followed  by  her  little  sister,  under  the 
repeated,  but  scarcely  heard  or  heeded  cautions  of  the 
former,  till  an  intervening  swell  hid  them  from  her  sight. 


310  ETHAN    ALLEN 

As  the  eye  of  the  mother  rested  fondly  and  proudly  on 
the  receding  forms  of  her  children,  she  thought  of  what 
they  were  to  her  then —  her  comfort  and  her  care  —  of 
what  they  soon  would  be  to  her  —  not  only  a  comfort,  but 
an  aid  ii»  lightening  the  burdens  and  toils  so  heavily  im 
posed  on  her  and  her  companion,  in  their  endeavors  to  sub 
due  the  wilderness,  and  create  within  its  bosom  a  comfort 
able  home.  And  as  she  thus  turned  to  the  future,  imagina 
tion  began  to  be  busy  with  her  bright  pictures  of  coming 
prosperity  and  happiness ;  for  in  them,  as  usual,  all  the 
sunshine  of  life  was  gathered,  and  all  its  clouds  forgot 
ten.  Beneath  her  glowing  pencil  the  wilderness  fast 
faded  away  ;  and  in  place  of  the  humble  log  tenement,  a 
large  and  commodious  mansion  rose  to  view,  surrounded 
by  smooth  and  fertile  fields  laden  with  products,  and 
green  pastures  filled  with  flocks,  or  embowered  with 
orchards  bending  with  fruit;  while  she,  the  mistress  of 
all,  with  the  companion  of  her  early  toils,  now  beyond 
the  necessity  of  labor,  were  reaping  the  rewards  of  all 
their  privations  and  hardships  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
bounties  by  which  they  were  surrounded  —  of  the  cheer 
ing  presence  of  their  children,  budding  into  life,  and 'at 
tracting  a  pleasant  social  circle  around  them  —  the  respect 
of  society  at  large  —  perhaps  the  honors  of  the  public,  and 
every  thing  that  could  make  their  lives  desirable,  or  in 
any  manner  heighten  the  picture  of  the  happy  domicile 
thus  figured  to  her  mind. 

In  reveries  like  these,  in  which  many  a  poor  first  settler 
has  found  his  only  reward  for  a  life  of  hardship,  hours 
glided  away  unperceived  by  the  entranced  mother,  till  the 
descending  sun,  beginning  to  dip  behind  the  lofty  moun 
tains  bounding  the  vale  to  the  north  and  west,  caught 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  311 

her  abstracted  eye,  and  brought  her  back  to  the  realities 
of  life. 

"  My  children  !  where  are  they  ?  "  was  the  first  thought 
that  crossed  her  awakened  mind,  as  she  became  aware  of 
the  lapse  of  time  since  their  departure.  Suddenly  stop 
ping  her  wheel,  she  rose  hastily  to  her  feet,  and  after 
throwing  a  searching  glance  over  the  field  where  her  hus 
band  was  still  at  work,  she  ran  to  the  top  of  the  knoll, 
behind  which  they  had  disappeared.  Here  she  paused, 
and  ran  her  eye  eagerly  along  the  borders  of  the  woods, 
bounding  their  little  opening  on  the  east.  But  no  chil 
dren  greeted  her  anxious  gaze.  She  then  called  loudly 
their  names ;  but  no  sound  responded  to  her  call,  except 
ing  a  hallo  from  her  husband,  who  demanded  the  cause 
of  her  outcries. 

"  The  children  !  "  she  almost  shrieked  in  reply  —  "  have 
you  seen  the  children  ?  " 

"  No  —  I  thought  they  were  with  you,"  he  answered, 
holding  his  suspended  hoe  in  his  hands,  while  he  listened 
to  her  brief  and  hurried  recital  of  the  time  and  manner 
of  their  children's  disappearance. 

As  she  closed,  the  hoe  dropped  suddenly  from  his 
hands,  and  making  his  way  with  rapid  strides,  he  the 
next  moment  stood  before  her,  when  mutely  exchanging 
with  her  a  look  of  agonizing  intelligence,  and  bidding 
her  follow,  with  that  almost  savage  sternness  which 
startled  affection  will  often  force  into  the  manner  of  the 
most  mild  and  gentle,  they  hurried  forward  to  the  woods. 
Here  taking  different  directions,  they  at  first  proceeded 
along  the  borders  of  the  forest  around  the  whole  clearing ; 
and  then,  penetrating  farther  within  the  woods,  they 
repeated  their  rounds,  frequently  pausing  and  calling 


312  ETHAN    ALLEN 

aloud,  but  in  vain,  for  their  lost  children.  After  hunting 
an  hour  in  this  manner,  the  now  thoroughly-alarmed 
parents  met  again  at  the  spot  where  they  commenced 
their  search. 

"  Run  and  raise  the  neighbors,  wife,"  said  the  hus 
band,  in  an  agitated  voice,  "and  tell  them  to  come  quick 
—  quick,"  he  added,  as,  with  an  uneasy  glance  towards 
the  distant  summits,  where  the  fading  of  the  last  rays 
of  the  setting  sun  told  him  how  little  of  daylight  re 
mained  for  the  search,  he  again  plunged  into  the  forest. 

Although  the  poor  mother  was  already  flushed  with 
heat,  and  nearly  exhausted  by  her  exertions,  yet  she 
rather  flew  than  ran  to  the  house  of  the  nearest  neigh 
bor,  nearly  a  mile  distant,  and,  as  soon  as  she  could  get 
breath  to  speak,  made  known  her  trouble  —  the  simple 
announcement  of  which  was  sufficient  to  arouse  the 
sympathizing  inmates  to  immediate  action  in  her  behalf, 
by  starting  off  in  different  directions  to  spread  the  alarm 
through  the  settlement.  The  instant  she  saw  the  hastily- 
saddled  horses  mounted  by  the  messengers,  and  put  under 
whip  and  spur  on  their  destination,  she  turned  and  sped 
back  to  her  now  desolate  home,  thinking  she  would  there 
rest  till  the  expected  help  arrived  ;  when  she  herself  would 
lead  the  way  to  the  spot  where  the  children  disappeared. 
But  little  was  the  rest  which  her  troubled  spirit  permitted 
her  to  enjoy.  She  would  sit  down  for  this  purpose,  it  is 
true  ;  but  the  next  moment  she  would  start  up  and  run 
to  the  door  to  look  out  —  return,  sit  down,  and  rise  again 
to  repeat  the  same  motion  ;  or,  perhaps,  she  would  run 
to  her  cupboard  and  handle  over  her  dishes,  but  only  to 
replace  them,  and  proceed  to  something  else,  to  be  as 
unconsciously  begun  and  as  quickly  relinquished. 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  313 

In  this  manner  did  the  distressed  mother  employ  her 
self,  till  the  sudden  trampling  of  horses'  feet  brought  her 
to  the  door,  where  she  saw  about  a  dozen  men  dismount 
ing  in  the  yard,  whose  presence  she  greeted  with  a  shout 
of  almost  frantic  joy.  Among  the  new  comers  there 
was,  fortunately,  one  whose  well-known  name  was  a 
host  in  every  public  gathering,  when  a  united  effort  was 
required  to  accomplish  the  object  in  view;  for,  with  a 
full  share  of  the  more  common  qualities  of  skill  and  en 
ergy,  he  possessed  a  remarkable  faculty  of  inspiring  in 
others  that  faith  of  success  by  which,  not  unfrequently, 
success  can  only  be  insured.  That  man  was  the  cel 
ebrated  Colonel  Ethan  Allen,  who,  to  recruit  a  constitu 
tion  impaired  by  the  fatigues  of  the  camp,  and  his  long 
captivity,  had  retired  to  a  farm  in  this  town,  where  he 
was  then  an  honored  resident. 

Allen  now  advanced  to  the  bereaved  mother,  and, 
kindly  saluting  her,  inquired  the  particulars  of  the  dis 
appearance  of  her  little  ones.  She  began  to  reply,  but, 
with  almost  the  first  word,  burst  into  tears;  and  pointing 
to  her  husband,  who  at  that  moment  was  seen  approach 
ing  from  the  woods,  she  dropped  on  to  a  bench,  and  cov 
ered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Be  of  good  cheer,  dear  madam,"  said  the  hero,  deeply 
touched  at  her  grief.  "  Bear  up  with  fortitude,  and  con 
fide  in  us  soon  to  relieve  you  of  your  anxiety;  for  your 
children  shall  be  found.  I  pledge  you  the  word  of  Ethan 
Allen  that  I  will  return  with  them,  or  search  till  I  die." 

After  learning  the  desired  particulars  of  the  father,  who 

now  came  up,  Allen  held  a  brief  consultation  with  those 

present  respecting  the  manner  of  conducting  the  proposed 

search.     And  it  was  soon  settled  that  every  man  should 

27 


314  ETHAN    ALLEN 

provide  himself  with  a  pine  knot  torch  for  the  night. 
Such  as  could  readily  procure  horns,  or  conch  shells,  were 
to  take  them  to  blow  at  intervals,  for  the  purpose  of  keep 
ing  the  company  in  a  line,  or  near  together ;  and,  as  nearly 
all  came  with  guns,  it  was  concluded  to  take  them  along 
also.  Bat  no  man  was  to  discharge  his  piece  till  the 
children  should  be  found ;  when  two  guns,  in  quick  suc 
cession,  were  to  be  fired  as  the  signal. 

These  brief  arrangements  being  made,  the  company, 
now  every  moment  fast  increasing  by  fresh  arrivals,  was 
put  in  motion  by  Allen,  who  was  unanimously  chosen 
leader,  and  marched  forward  to  the  border  of  the  woods. 
Here  they  halted,  arid  lighted  their  torches,  it  being  by 
this  time  quite  dark;  when  each  man  having  taken  his 
appointed  station  in  a  line,  formed  by  placing  the  men 
about  a  dozen  yards  apart,  the  whole,  at  the  word  of 
command  from  their  leader,  entered  the  forest  and  began 
the  anxious  search. 

Man  happily  seems  endued  with  the  privilege  and 
power  of  deadening  the  sharpest  stings  of  grief  and  anx 
iety  by  action  ;  but  no  such  privilege  —  perhaps  no  such 
power  —  remains  for  woman.  The  father  of  the  lost 
ones,  as  deep  as  was  his  anguish,  could  yet  endure  it  in 
silence,  while  mingling  in  the  active  exertions  of  the 
search.  But  O,  what  pen  can  describe  the  feelings  of 
that  agonized  mother  during  the  lingering  hours  of  that 
dreadful  night!  Though  surrounded  by  female  neigh 
bors,  who  had  come  in  to  assist,  and  who  would  have 
gladly  encouraged  and  comforted  her,  yet  she  would 
listen  to  no  words  of  comfort.  But,  restlessly  moving 
about  the  room,  and  wringing  her  hands  in  tearless  woe, 
she  ceased  not  to  bewail  her  children,  whom  she  some- 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  315 

times  fancied  in  watery  graves,  and  sometimes  torn  to 
pieces  and  devoured  by  wild  beasts.  Hope,  indeed,  might 
occasionally  come  to  her  relief,  and  her  mind,  for  a  mo 
ment,  be  diverted  from  its  engrossing  sorrow,  as  the 
sounds  of  horns,  or  the  voices  of  the  men,  shouting  to 
their  fellows  in  the  woods,  struck  her  ear,  or  the  gleam 
ing  of  their  torches  caught  her  eye.  But  the  imbittering 
thought  would  quickly  return,  and  drive  her  to  resume 
her  ceaseless  rounds  about  her  room,  till,  compelled  by 
utter  exhaustion,  she  would  throw  herself  on  to  her  bed, 
and  perhaps  fall  into  a  disturbed  slumber  —  but  only  to 
start  again  the  next  moment,  with  an  exclamation  of 
anguish,  at  some  fearful  image  which  dreaming  fancy 
had  called  up  from  the  depth  of  her  troubled  spirit. 

Thus  with  the  poor  mother  passed  this  seemingly 
interminable  night,  and  the  morning  light,  so  anxiously 
looked  for  by  her,  at  length  made  its  appearance,  but 
only  to  disclose  the  scattering  groups  of  the  company 
returning  from  the  woods,  with  slow  and  weary  steps, 
and  the  thoughtful  and  downcast  manner  which  plainly 
told  that  their  exertions  had  been  unsuccessful.  They 
returned  not,  however,  with  the  thought  of  relinquishing 
their  object,  but  only  to  refresh  and  recruit  themselves  by 
a  short  respite  for  a  renewal  of  the  search.  And,  after 
as  many  as  the  house  could  supply  had  been  furnished 
with  food,  and  the  messengers  despatched  to  other  houses 
for  the  purpose  had  returned  with  supplies  for  the  rest, 
the  company  were  again  led  back  by  their  persevering 
leader  to  recommence,  in  other  and  yet  unexplored  parts 
of  the  forest,  the  search  for  the  lost  ones,  of  whom  not  a 
single  trace  had  yet  been  discovered. 

Another  day  of  fruitless  researches  succeeded  —  another 


ETHAN    ALLEN 

day  of  torturing  anxiety  and  suspense  to  the  pitiable  par 
ents,  now  giving  way  to  despair  and  now  clinging  to  hope, 
but  to  a  hope  continually  growing  weaker  and  weaker 
from  the  consciousness  that  every  hour  lessened  the  prob 
ability  that  their  children  would  be  found,  or,  if  found, 
that  they  would  be  found  living.  Although  the  country 
for  more  than  twenty  miles  around  had  been  alarmed, 
and  over  six  hundred  men  had  by  this  time  assembled 
and  joined  in  the  search  —  although  miles  of  the  dark 
and  tangled  forest  had  been  carefully  explored  by  the 
company,  proceeding,  now  that  their  numbers  were  so 
increased,  in  a  line  at  arm's  length  from  each  other,  or 
always  so  near  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  that  the  lost 
could  be  passed  over  unseen  —  yet  no  traces  of  them  had 
been  seen,  no  clew  discovered  which  could  lead  to  any 
thing  but  the  merest  conjecture  of  their  fate  or  present 
situation.  And  so  deeply  impressed  were  a  large  propor 
tion  of  the  company,  before  the  close  of  this  day,  of  the 
uselessness  of  any  further  search  for  the  children,  who, 
as  they  generally  believed,  must  have  been  seized  by  the 
wolves  or  panthers,  and  borne  ofT  to  distant  dens  to  be 
devoured,  that  they  would  have  relinquished  the  search 
and  gone  home,  but  for  the  constant  and  untiring  efforts 
of  their  indefatigable  leader,  who,  passing  continually 
from  one  end  of  the  line  to  the  other,  encouraged,  exhort 
ed,  and  implored  them  to  persevere,  and  entertain  no 
thought  of  yielding  till  the  children,  whether  living  or 
dead,  should  be  found.  And  such  were  his  powers  of 
controlling  the  multitude,  and  infusing  into  them  his  own 
burning  and  confiding  spirit,  that  their  hesitation  gave 
way  under  his  appeals,  and,  in  spite  of  fatigues  and  the 
faintness  consequent  on  the  scantiness  of  the  supplies 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  317 

of  food,  which  only  could  be  brought  to  so  many  in  the 
woods,  they  cheerfully  continued  their  unpromising  toils, 
not  only  through  the  dreary  night  that  followed,  but  the 
greater  part  of  the  succeeding  day,  though  with  no  other 
result  than  that  of  keeping  alive,  in  the  mean  time,  in 
the  bosoms  of  the  distracted  parents,  the  forlorn  hope 
which  arose  from  the  knowledge  that  the  search  was  not 
yet  relinquished.  Perseverance,  however,  with  a  lessen 
ing  prospect  of  success,  could  not  always  be  expected  in 
a  body  of  men  brought  thus  promiscuously  together,  and 
acting  only  from  feelings  of  sympathy  or  the  dictates  of 
a  common  duty  ;  and  towards  night,  on  this  the  third 
day  of  the  search,  small  parties  began  to  steal  away. 
And  the  example  operating  on  the  rest,  faint,  weary,  and 
despairing  of  success,  the  whole  soon  broke  from  a  line, 
and  retiring  from  the  woods,  followed  in  silence  by  their 
now  sad  and  grieved  leader,  assembled  at  the  house  of 
the  disconsolate  parents. 

All  seemed  deeply  impressed  by  the  painful  circum 
stances  under  which  they  were  now,  for  the  last  time,  as 
they  supposed,  assembled  at  this  abode  of  unmitigated 
sorrow.  Though  no  one  had  announced  that  the  search 
had  been  given  up,  yet  all  seemed  to  understand  that 
such  was  the  fact.  Even  the  bereaved  parents  seemed 
perfectly  aware  of  the  melancholy  truth  ;  for,  differently 
from  what  they  had  yet  done,  they  now  came  out  and 
took  a  seat  together,  after  the  manner  of  mourners  at  the 
last  rites  of  the  dead,  on  a  bench  near  the  door,  in  full 
view  of  the  company,  and  there  sat  drooping  with  that 
air  of  hopeless  grief  which  is  only  assumed  under  the 
sad  consciousness  that  all  is  over.  The  silence  of  a 
funeral  pervaded  the  whole  assembled  multitude,  who, 
27* 


318  ETHAN    ALLEN 

seated  on  logs  and  other  objects,  or  lying  in  groups  on 
the  grass  about  the  yard,  seemed  silently  mingling  their 
sympathies  for  the  bereaved.  And  for  nearly  half  of  an 
hour,  no  movement  was  made  and  no  loud  word  was 
spoken,  when  the  singularly-gifted,  and,  to  this  day  even, 
but  imperfectly  understood  man  who  had  acted  as  leader, 
and  had  now  been  standing  aloof  with  a  sad  and  troubled 
look,  slowly  mounted  a  large  stump  on  one  side  of  the 
yard,  and  raising  his  towering  form,  and  glancing  mourn 
fully  round  over  the  assemblage,  commanded  attention. 

"  Men,"  he  impressively  began,  "  fellow-men,  neighbors, 
parents,  all  hear  me,  for  I  can  keep  silent  no  longer ;  and 
if  I  should,  it  seems  to  me  —  to  use  the  words  of  the 
good  Book  —  that  the  very  stones  would  cry  out.  I  have 
been  in  battles,  where  the  dying  and  the  dead  lay  thick 
around  me  —  I  have  spent  months  in  the  earthly  hell  of 
a  British  prison  ship,  where  df^pair  and  death  in  their 
most  appalling  forms  were  daily  before  me ;  but  they  all 
furnished  no  scene  to  wring  the  bosom  with  commiser 
ation  like  this.  Look  at  that  bereaved,  heart-stricken 
pair!"  he  continued,  while  the  big  tears  began  to  roll 
down  his  cheeks;  "  why  are  their  bosoms  thus  heaving 
with  convulsive  sobs  ?  and  why  is  dark  despair  settling 
on  their  countenances,  which,  till  now,  have  not  been 
without  the  light  of  hope  ?  Is  it  because  their  children 
are  dead  ?  No  !  for  they,  as  well  as  ourselves,  must  know 
that  it  is  yet  quite  too  soon  to  settle  down  in  that  mel 
ancholy  presumption.  No,  it  is  not  this  !  But  is  it  not 
because  they  see  that  we  have  come  here  to  tell  them  — 
as  we  should,  if  we  could  find  in  our  hearts  to  make  the 
announcement  —  to  tell  them  that  we  can  search  no 
longer  for  their  children  ;  that  we  are  tired,  and  must  go 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  319 

home  to  our  business  now,  leaving  their  unfortunate  little 
ones  to  perish  miserably  in  the  woods?  Young  men,  who 
have  often  found  strength  to  keep  the  woods  a  week,  to 
hunt  down  some  paltry  wolf  or  bear,  are  you  satisfied 
to  give  up  after  a  search  of  forty-eight  hours,  when 
two  human  lives  are  at  stake?  Men,  who  have  been 
with  me  in  the  war,  and  cheerfully  undergone  fatigues 
and  hunger  a  hundred  fold  greater  than  those  we  have 
here  experienced,  are  you  also  willing  that  your  acts 
should  tell  the  same  story  to  this  broken-hearted  pair 
and  to  the  world  ?  And,  lastly,  parents,  O  parents !  can 
you  take  this  case  home  to  your  own  bosoms  —  can  you 
look  on  this  distracted  father  and  mother,  and  make 
their  case  your  own,  and  picture  to  yourselves  your  own 
little  ones  lost  in  the  woods,  worn  out,  weary,  and  famish 
ing,  with  no  human  face  to  cheer  and  encourage  them  — 
no  human  hand  to  minister  to  them  —  trembling  with 
fear  through  the  night,  as  the  wild  beasts  howl  around 
them,  and  wailing  out  their  little  lives  in  grief  and  hun 
ger  ?  Can  you  do  this,  and  then  coldly  talk  of  relinquish 
ing  the  search  and  going  home  ?  If  you  can,"  he  went 
on,  with  the  tears  now  falling  in  streams  from  his  eyes, 
"  go,  go !  and  may  the  God  of  humanity  forgive  you  and 
be  merciful  to  you,  when  your  own  children,  in  turn,  are 
lost  and  perishing  in  the  wilderness !  As  for  myself,  I 
am  now  about  to  return  to  the  forest,  there,  as  I  pledged 
myself  to  these  poor  parents  at  the  outset  —  there  to  con 
tinue  the  search  till  the  lost  are  found,  or  life  be  worn  out 
in  the  effort.  But  can  it  be,  friends  and  neighbors  —  to 
whom  this  is  my  last  appeal  —  can  it  be  that  I  am  to  go 
alone?" 

"  No  —  never!"  shouted  a  dozen  voices  from  different 
parts  of  the  crowd. 


320  ETHAN    ALLEN 

"  No,  no !  I  will  go !  I  shall  go !  we  will  all  go  with 
you,  even  to  the  end  of  your  vow,  noble  colonel ! "  re 
sponded  one  and  all,  rushing  forward  with  excited  looks, 
and  new  resolution  beaming  through  the  manly  tears, 
which  had  bedewed  every  cheek  of  that  large  assemblage, 
during  the  touching  appeal  of  their  idolized  leader. 

"  God  bless  you  for  this,  my  friends ! "  exclaimed 
Allen,  with  emotion.  "  Depend  on't,  there's  a  providence 
in  this  new-born  faith  and  resolution.  Those  children 
are  yet  to  be  found  ;  and  ah  ! "  he  continued,  exultingly 
pointing  to  an  ox  team,  containing  several  large  baskets 
of  provisions,  which,  driven  by  a  boy,  was  seen  turning 
into  the  yard  — "  ah,  here  is  already  an  omen  of  our 
success  in  these  supplies  so  timely  forwarded  by  our 
thoughtful  wives  and  daughters.  Come,  men,  gather 
round  it.  Let  each  furnish  himself  with  a  good  ration, 
and  we  will  be  off  again  to  the  woods  ;  for  we  must  bear 
in  mind  that  an  hour  lost  now  may  be  death  to  the  ob 
jects  of  our  search." 

The  clouds  of  doubt  and  despondency  having  been 
thus  dispelled,  and  a  complete  revulsion  of  feeling  effected 
by  the  tact  and  rough  eloquence  of  Allen,  men  forgot 
their  fatigues,  and  every  thing  now  proceeded  with  spirit 
and  animation.  The  fresh  arrivals  of  provisions  was 
hastily  distributed  ;  and  all  other  preparations  being  as 
speedily  made,  the  lengthened  column,  headed  by  the 
now  exulting  leader,  was  seen  deploying  along  the  bor 
ders  of  the  woods.  Here  they  halted ;  and  a  brief  con 
sultation  was  held  among  the  most  prominent  of  the 
company,  which  resulted  in  the  determination  to  push 
eastwardly,  directly  on  to  the  mountains  beyond  the 
limits  of  their  previous  explorations.  A  party  of  four 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  321 

men,  however,  consisting  of  active  and  experienced 
woodsmen,  were  detached  to  the  left  to  proceed  up  Roar 
ing  Branch,  and  follow  it  up  to  its  sources  in  the  ponds, 
in  the  gorges  of  the  mountains,  the  upper  part  of  the 
stream  having  been  hitherto  left  unexplored  in  the  search, 
on  account  of  the  supposed  impossibility  of  the  children 
having  been  able  to  penetrate  so  far  through  the  rocky 
steeps  and  tangled  passages  which  there  environed  its 
banks. 

This  being  done,  the  company  moved  rapidly  forward 
to  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  beyond  which  the  search 
had  not,  in  this  direction,  been  extended.  Here  contract 
ing  their  line  so  as  to  bring  each  man  in  view  of  his 
fellow,  they  began  slowly  to  ascend  the  toilsome  steeps, 
carefully  searching  every  covert,  and  peering  under  every 
log,  or  tree  top,  in  their  way,  which  might  possibly  con 
ceal  the  lost  ones. 

In  this  manner,  about  an  hour  had  been  spent,  and 
nearly  a  mile  searched  over  without  discovery,  when  the 
word  was  passed  by  the  leader,  who  had  taken  station 
and  marched  on  the  extreme  right,  to  "  halt,  dress  the 
line,  and  rest."  And  thankfully,  indeed,  was  the  order 
by  this  time  received  —  for  the  men,  now  the  excitement 
recently  kindled  by  their  ardent  leader  had  died  away, 
began  to  feel  the  effects  of  these  superadded  exertions  ; 
and  most  of  them  immediately  dropped  down  on  to  the 
nearest  rock,  or  moss  banks,  to  catch  what  little  rest  their 
brief  respite  might  allow ;  while  they  amused  them 
selves  in  looking  off  from  their  elevated  situation  over 
the  forest-clad  hills  and  dales,  which,  broken  only  by  the 
apparently  small  and  thinly-scattered  openings  of  the 
settlers,  lay  stretching  in  tranquil  beauty  beneath  and 


322  ETHAN  ALLEN 

before  them,  till  the  scene  was  closed  on  the  north  and 
west  by  the  lofty  mountains  of  Manchester,  and  the  less 
elevated  ridges  of  Arlington,  whose  empurpled  sides  now 
met  the  eye  in  striking  contrast  with  the  splendor  which 
the  setting  sun  was  throwing  over  their  burnished  sum 
mits.  But  though  thus  beguiled  a  short  time  by  the 
beauty  and  the  novelty  of  the  view  here  presented,  as 
they  looked  on  the  scenes  behind,  yet,  as  they  turned  to 
the  rough  steeps  and  deep  abysses  of  the  route  before 
them,  and  thought  of  the  toils  of  the  coming  night,  many 
a  heart  again  desponded  ;  and  they  wondered  how  they 
could  have  been  induced  to  recommence  the  search  with 
such  spirit  and  hopeful  courage.  Their  sad  anticipations, 
however,  were  fortunately  not  to  be  realized  ;  for  while 
they  were  gloomily  awaiting  the  expected  order  to  move 
forward,  the  whole  line  were  suddenly  roused  by  the 
loud  and  startling  report  of  one  or  more  muskets,  burst 
ing  heavily  from  the  gorge  about  a  mile  to  the  left,  and 
in  the  direction  taken  by  the  detached  party  before  men 
tioned.  In  an  instant,  every  man  was  on  hjs  feet,  with 
the  unspoken  question  on  his  lips  —  "  Was  that  the  first 
gun  of  the  appointed  signal  ?  "  And  the  sharply  whis 
pered,  "  Hush !  hark!  list!"  were  the  only  sounds  that, 
for  the  next  moment,  could  be  heard  along  the  line,  as, 
with  brightening  eyes  and  ears  eagerly  attent,  all  stood 
breathlessly  awaiting  what  they  scarcely  dared  hope  for 
—  the  completion  of  the  signal.  But  the  next  instant,  it 
came  in  another  report  from  the  same  spot,  that  sent  its 
reverberating  echoes  down  the  gorges  towards  them  more 
distinctly  than  before. 

"  Found ! "    shouted  the  first  man    on   the  left ;    and 
"Found!"  "found!"  "found!"  rang  joyously  swelling 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  323 

along  the  line,  from  man  to  man,  till  it  ended  in  the 
stentorian  shout  of  Ethan  Allen,  who,  leaping  high  from 
the  ground,  sent  onward  the  exulting  announcement, 
"  Found!  Hallelujah  to  Almighty  God,  the  children  are 
found ! "  in  a  voice  that  was  heard  with  a  thrill  of  joy, 
even  to  the  distant  abode  of  the  hitherto  despairing 
parents.  The  next  moment  the  wilderness  shook  with 
the  answering  discharge  of  every  gun  in  the  company. 

The  children  were  now  found,  it  was  evident ;  but  how 
found  ?  Whether  living  or  dead,  no  one  of  the  company 
nere  knew ;  and  few  were  willing  to  utter  a  loud  conjec 
ture,  as,  with  common  consent,  they  all  broke  from  their 
stations  and  hurried  towards  that  point  in  the  woods 
from  which  the  signal  had  proceeded.  But  leaving  this 
exciting  scene,  we  will  now  follow  the  small,  detached 
party  in  the  still  more  exciting  adventures  which  resulted 
in  the  discovery  just  announced  to  the  main  company, 
in  the  manner  we  have  described. 

After  passing  rapidly  over  that  part  of  their  route 
which  had  been  previously  examined  in  the  search,  this 
little  party  continued  to  toil  on  through  the  tangled 
thickets  and  windfalls,  or  up  the  wet  and  slippery  declivi 
ties,  which  they  every  few  yards  encountered,  in  follow 
ing  up  the  stream,  till  the  increasing  difficulties  of  the 
way  at  length  caused  the  leader  of  the  party  to  doubt 
the  use  or  expediency  of  attempting  to  penetrate  any 
farther ;  and  he  proposed  a  halt,  for  the  purpose  of  con 
sulting  his  companions. 

"  Is  there  any  possibility,  Bartlett,"  he  said,  addressing 
the  man  nearest  to  him,  "  that  those  children  can  have 
made  their  way  through  such  a  place  any  farther  than 
this,  or  even  so  far,  I  might  as  well  have  said?" 


324 


ETHAN  ALLEN 


«  I  should  think  not,  Captain  Ball,"  responded  the  per 
son  addressed  ;  "  but  we  will  have  Underwood  and  Bing* 
ham's  opinions,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  two  remaining 
ones  of  the  party. 

"  Why,  I  don't  think  it  impossible,"  replied  Under 
wood,  "that  they  should  get  through  these  windfalls; 
for  children  will  creep  through  smaller  holes  than  we  can  ; 
but  the  only  question  with  me  has  been,  whether  they 
would  naturally  have  kept  on  far  in  a  course  where  the 
ground  is  so  ascending,  even  as  this  ravine  —  much  less 
up  the  steeps  where  the  main  party  have  gone." 

"  Well,  now,  that  is  no  great  question  \vith  me,"  re 
marked  Bingham,  who  was  an  old  and  observing  hunter. 
"  I've  always  noted,  that  all  the  brute  creatures  in  the 
woods,  when  frightened  and  confused  by  pursuit,  inva 
riably  take  up-hill  courses ;  and  why  not  frightened  and 
confused  children,  who,  in  such  case,  could  have  nothing 
but  instinct  and  natural  impulses  to  guide  or  govern 
them  ?  If  you  can  tell  me  why  lost  and  frightened  brutes 
do  this,  or  why  lost  and  frightened  children  shouldn't, 
when  brutes  do,  I  should  like  to  hear  you." 

This  odd  theory  led  to  some  further  discussion  among 
the  rest  of  the  party,  during  which  the  hunter  walked  on 
a  short  distance  to  a  large  hemlock-tree,  standing  near 
the  stream,  where  some  appearance  had  attracted  his 
attention;  and  having  carefully  examined  the  spot,  he 
called  to  his  companions  to  approach. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  pointing  down  between  the  branch 
ing  roots  of  the  tree,  as  the  others  came  up  —  "  here  I  am 
quite  sure  something  bedded  last  night,  which  I  hardly 
think  could  have  been  a  four-footed  animal,  as  I  can  find 
no  hairs  in  the  place.  The  impression,  be  sure,  is  slight; 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  325 

for  the  leaves,  at  this  time,  are  so  dry  that  nothing  will 
leave  one,  not  even  footsteps,  else  the  children  could  have 
been  traced  before  this.  But  the  appearance  of  this  spot, 
taken  in  connection  with  that  freshly-broken  twig  hang 
ing  there  by  the  bark  between  here  and  the  stream,  as 
you  see,  inclines  me  to  think  the  children  staid  here 
last  night," 

"  I  am  willing  you  should  have  faith,  Bingham,"  re 
marked  Captain  Ball,  after  examining  the  appearances 
to  which  the  other  had  thus  invited  attention;  but  if  it 
is  grounded  only  on  these  uncertain  circumstances,  I  fear 
it  will  avail  us  but  little  in  our  object.  However,  we  will 
examine  the  place  to  some  distance  around ;  and  if  the 
children  have  really  been  here,  we  shall  probably  discover 
indications  of  it  of  a  less  doubtful  character." 

The  adjoining  woods  were  searched  over  to  a  consid 
erable  extent,  but  no  additional  indications  were  discov 
ered  ;  and  the  party,  all  but  the  hunter,  again  began  to 
talk  of  turning  their  steps  towards  home,  when  the  latter, 
who  stood  musing  a  little  aloof  from  the  rest,  suddenly 
called  on  them  to  be  silent  and  listen. 

"  What  did  you  think  you  heard,  Bingham  ?  "  asked 
Ball  in  a  lowered  tone. 

"  I  can  hardly  tell,"  replied  the  hunter  in  the  same  tone, 
as  he  stood  with  an  ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
supposed  sound,  but  if  you  were  not  so  determined  to 
beat  me  out  of  the  belief  of  all  my  own  senses,  should 
say  something  that  sounded  like  the  faintish  kind  of  a 
yelp  with  which  a  wolf  generally  begins  a  call  for  help  ; 
if  it  was,  it  will  soon  be  repeated  —  now,  hark!  " 

All  listened  in  silence,  and,  in  a  moment,  the  long, 
savage  howl  peculiar  to  the  animal  just  named  was 
28 


326  ETHAN    ALLEN 

indeed  heard  rising  distinctly  on  the  breeze  from  some 
spot  up  the  ravine,  perhaps  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
distant. 

"  A  wolf,  sure  enough,"  said  Bartlett. 

"  Yes ;  and  if  the  children -have  gone  this  way,  it  is  as 
I  feared,"  added  the  less-experienced  Underwood,  with  a 
sigh  ;  "  the  wolves  have  devoured  them." 

"  Not  so  fast,  mister,"  interposed  the  hunter ;  "  that 
howl  may  mean  something  a  little  more  encouraging. 
But  be  quiet  and  listen  —  I  am  expecting  a  chorus  to 
that  tune  in  a  minute  or  so." 

They  all  again  stood  mute,  and  listened  with  increas 
ing  interest  and  anxiety,  when  the  same  wild  howl,  louder 
and  more  earnest  than  before,  resounded  through  the 
forest ;  and,  the  next  instant,  another  howl  was  faintly 
heard  responding  from  a  distant  part  of  the  mountain ; 
and  another,  and  another,  soon  followed,  from  different 
directions  and  distances,  till  the  whole  wilderness  seemed 
vocal  with  their  terrific  music. 

"  The  thing  is  settled,"  said  the  hunter,  hastily  reprim- 
ing  his  gun.  "  The  children  are  near  that  wolf  which 
howled  first  —  alive,  too,  or  he  would  not  have  called  for 
help.  The  pack  that  have  answered  him  are  most  of 
them  a  mile  or  two  off,  but  they  will  come  like  the  wind. 
And  we  must  be  there  before  them,  or  the  poor  little 
ones  are  gone  forever.  Follow  me,  and  keep  up  who 
can,"  he  added,  striking  off  like  an  arrow  in  his  projected 
course, 

"  There  is  something  in  this  ;  and,  in  God's  name,  let 
us  on,"  exclaimed  the  now  thoroughly-aroused  Captain 
Ball,  as,  followed  by  his  two  remaining  associates,  he 
sprang  forward  after  the  hunter. 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  327 

All  by  this  time  seemed  impressed  with  the  conviction 
that  the  issue  of  life  or  death  to  the  children  might  now 
depend  upon  their  speed;  and  on  they  bounded,  from  log 
to  log  and  hillock  to  hillock,  here  gliding  round  an  im 
passable  jungle,  and  there  leaping  over  a  fallen  tree  or 
diving  under  it,  with  a  celerity  and  progress  which,  in 
such  a  place,  would  have  seemed  incredible  to  any  but 
the  trained  woodsman.  But  as  great  as  was  their  speed, 
the  hunter,  wTho  more  than  maintained  his  distance  in 
advance,  soon  began  by  his  beckoning  gestures  to  urge 
them  to  greater  exertions.  Nor  were  they  long  at  loss 
to  perceive  the  force  of  the  silent  but  significant  appeals 
thus  made  to  them  ;  for  the  rapidly-nearing  sounds  of 
the  gathering  wolves,  and  their  short,  eager  yells,  that 
told  their  close  approach  to  the  scented  prey,  all  made  it 
evident  that  they  were  fast  converging  to  the  point  of 
this  fearful  rivalry  between  them  and  the  woodsmen, 
who,  thus  incited,  strained  every  nerve,  and  inwardly 
prayed  for  new  powers  of  speed,  to  reach  the  spot  in 
season,  but  trembled  as  they  prayed  lest  they  should  be 
one  moment  too  late.  A  happier  return  for  their  exer 
tions,  however,  was  now  at  hand ;  for  suddenly  the  hunter 
stopped  short,  and,  after  peering  a  moment  through  an 
intervening  tree  top  down  into  a  valley  beyond,  he  turned 
to  his  companions,  and  motioned  them  to  come  on  in 
silence.  The  next  moment-they  were  at  his  side,  gazing 
down  on  a  scene  that  caused  their  hearts  to  jump  into 
their  mouths,  and  tears  to  start  in  their  eyes. 

In  an  open  space,  about  fifty  yards  in  front  of  them, 
sat  a  large  wolf  on  his  haunches,  headed  from  them  and 
towards  his  companions,  that  were  now  plainly  heard 
making  their  way  through  the  surrounding  thickets  to- 


ETHAN    ALLEN 

wards  him ;  while  on  a  flat  rock,  near  the  stream,  a  short 
distance  to  the  left,  stood  the  lost  children,  amidst  an 
imperfect  bower  which  they  had  constructed  from  the 
gathered  branches  of  the  hemlock.  The  youngest  was 
clinging  timidly  to  the  oldest,  who  was  menacingly  bran 
dishing  a  small  stick  towards  the  unheeding  wolf,  and, 
with  a  look  of  mingled  fear  and  defiance,  exclaiming, — 

"  Shoo !  shoo !  Go  away,  you  great  ugly  dog ;  we  are 
afraid  of  you." 

With  one  glance  over  this  exciting  scene,  every  man 
instinctively  brought  his  cocked  gun  to  his  shoulder. 

"  Stay,"  whispered  the  hunter,  "more  of  the  pack  will 
be  there  in  a  minute  ;  and  when  they  appear,  I  will  give 
the  word,  and  we  will  let  drive  together.  It  will  then 
answer  for  the  signal  to  our  friends,  while  we  have  the 
chance  of  giving  to  more  of  the  cowardly  imps  a  differ 
ent  supper  from  what  they  are  thinking  of." 

The  next  moment  five  or  six  gaunt,  hungry-looking 
wolves,  one  after  another,  came  galloping  into  the  open 
space  occupied  by  the  one  before  described,  which  now 
rose,  shook  himself  slightly,  and  turned  to  lead  the  others 
to  the  promised  repast. 

"  Here ! "  said  the  hunter ;  "  catch  a  quick  aim.    Fire !  " 

With  a  single  report,  the  four  pieces  sent  their  missiles 
of  death  upon  the  devoted  pack ;  and  the  sudden  sounds 
of  floundering  in  the  leaves,  the  sharp  yelps,  and  the 
quickly-retreating  footsteps  which  instantly  followed,  told 
the  death  of  one,  the  wounding  of  others,  and  the  rapid 
dispersion  of  the  whole  hideous  gang  of  these  brute 
demons  of  the  forest. 

"  Now  for  the  children,"  said  Captain  Ball,  hurrying 
out  from  behind  the  screening  tree  top.  "  I  will  show 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  329 

myself  to  them  first,  and  alone,  lest  they  be  frightened, 
while  the  rest  of  you  see  to  the  wolves,  if  any  remain 
that  want  finishing ;  and  then  fire  another  gun  to  com 
plete  the  signal." 

While  this  last  injunction  was  being  obeyed,  as  it  almost 
instantly  was  by  the  hunter  by  discharging  his  quickly- 
loaded  piece  at  a  limping  wolf,  of  which  he  caught  a 
glimpse  retreating  in  the  distance,  the  captain  advanced 
about  half  way  towards  the  covert  of  the  poor,  terrified 
little  girls,  who  at  the  discharge  of  the  guns  had  nestled 
down  in  one  corner  of  their  rude  bower,  and  there  lay 
clasped  together  and  trembling  in  fear  and  dreadful  ap 
prehensions —  less,  however,  of  being  devoured  by  the 
wolves,  which  they  took,  it  seemed,  to  be  large,  gray  dogs, 
than  of  being  seized  by  those  who  had  fired  the  guns, 
and  who  were  imagined  by  them  to  be  Indians,  of  whom 
they  had  heard  so  many  tales  of  terror.  But,  on  being 
quietly  called  by  their  approaching  friend,  the  eldest  girl 
rose,  and  after  peering  out  at  him  a  moment  with  a  star 
tled  and  doubtful  air,  timidly  asked, — 

"  Who  be  you  all  ?  " 

"  We  are  all  friends  ;  so  don't  be  afraic^  my  little  girl," 
soothingly  answered  Ball. 

"  Not  Indians,  certain  ? "  persisted  the  former  in  a 
smarter  tone. 

"  O,  no,  we  are  your  friends,  as  I  said,  and  come  to 
carry  you  to  your  father  and  mother.  Will  you  go 
with  us?" 

"  Yes,  we  will  go  with  you,  if  you'll  carry  us  to  father 
and  mother,  if  you  be  Indians,"  bravely  replied  she. 

While  the  hunter  was  stripping  off  the  skin  of  the 
slain  wolf,  which,  with  a  hunter's  pride,  he  claimed  as 
28* 


O-JO  ETHAN     ALLKN 

the  victim  of  his  own  shot,  the  others  employed  them 
selves  in  gaining  the  confidence  of  the  recovered  children, 
and  refreshing  them  by  feeding  them  with  small  portions 
of  biscuits  first  soaked  in  the  stream.  And  the  former 
were  so  successful  in  winning  upon  the  confiding  hearts 
of  the  latter,  as  soon  to  draw  from  them  the  childish  but 
affecting  little  story  of  their  sorrows  and  adventures  while 
lost  and  wandering  in  the  dark  and  dreary  woods.  How, 
when  they  perceived  tbey  were  lost,  they  cried  and  ran 
the  way  which  they  thought  was  towards  home,  till  it 
was  quite  dark ;  when,  tired  with  running  and  crying,  they 
sunk  down  under  a  large  tree,  and  slept  all  night ;  how, 
the  next  day,  they  kept  on  in  the  same  way,  sometimes 
finding  juniper  and  partridge  berries  to  eat,  till  they 
reached,  about  dark  the  second  day,  this  place ;  when, 
making  a  bed  and  covert  of  leaves  and  hemlock  boughs 
on  the  rock,  they  staid  all  night ;  during  which  the 
youngest  was  so  sick  and  thirsty,  that  they  got  up,  and, 
taking  hold  of  hands,  crept  down  to  the  water,,  drank, 
and  returned  ;  and,  finally,  how  they  had  been  here  ever 
since,  making  their  house  better,  and  fearing  to  go  away, 
lest  they  should  not  find  so  good  a  place  as  this,  where 
they  could  find  berries,  and  where  they  had  seen  nothing 
to  scare  them,  till  the  big  dog  came  and  lapped  his 
mouth  at  them,  and  would  have  bit  them,  if  they  had  not 
thrown  sticks  at  him,  and  kept  him  off  till  the  guns  killed 
him,  and  scared  away  the  others  that  began  to  come. 

Having  thus  spent  a  short  time  in  calming  and  re 
storing,  with  as  much  food  as  was  deemed  prudent,  the 
frightened  and  famishing  children,  the  party  was  called 
together  to  depart;  when  two  of  the  men  taking  each  a 
child  in  his  arms,  and  the  others  carrying  the  guns  and 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  331 

the  hunter's  wolf  skin,  the  whole  set  forward  with  quick 
and  animated  steps,  to  retrace  their  way  down  the  gorge 
to  the  settlement,  where  they  well  knew  minutes  would 
now  seem  hours  till  they  arrived. 

If  ever  men  felt  proud  and  happy  at  success,  it  was 
this  little  band  of  honest-hearted  woodsmen.  And  as. 
they  strode  homewards  through  woods,  with  their  living 
trophies,  all  unharmed  and  gayly  chatting  in  their  arms, 
their  bosoms,  at  the  thought  of  what  they  had  achieved, 
together  with  the  anticipated  pleasure  of  restoring  the 
little  ones  to  the  arms  of  their  parents — their  grateful 
bosoms  swelled  with  emotions  of  happiness  more  pure, 
more  elevated,  more  exquisite,  than  they  would  have  ex 
perienced  had  half  the  treasures  of  the  earth  been  unex 
pectedly  won  by  them. 

When  about  half  way  out  to  the  clearing,  they  sud 
denly  encountered  the  ardent  Ethan  Allen,  hurrying  on, 
at  the  head  of  the  main  body,  to  meet  them.  "  Ah,  ha !" 
exclaimed  the  hero,  throwing  up  his  hand  in  joyful  sur 
prise,  "  here  they  are,  alive  and  well.  Glory  to  God,  it 
it  is  indeed  at  last  accomplished  !  Arid  now,  my  merry 
men,"  he  continued,  turning  to  his  followers,  "  gather  up, 
gather  up  here,  and  let  every  one  give  voice  to  his  feel 
ings,  by  joining  in  a  round  of  cheers  which  shall  make 
these  hills  skip  like  those  described  by  the  brave  old 
David,  of  the  Scriptures  —  there,  halt!  ready  now!"  he 
added,  himself  leading  off  in  the  "three  times  three"  of 
such  thundering  cheers  as  never  before  rose  from  the  wild 
glens  of  the  Green  Mountains. 

The  company,  having  thus  given  vent  to  their  over 
flowing  feelings,  were  now  formed  into  a  sort  of  tri 
umphal  procession,  with  the  recovered  children  and  their 


332  ETHAN    ALLEN 

deliverers  in  front ;  when  the  whole,  headed  by  their 
exulting  leader,  moved  briskly  on  through  the  remaining 
part  of  the  woods,  till  they  reached  the  clearing ;  when, 
as  the  long  column  began  to  emerge  into  the  open 
grounds,  they  were  met  by  the  anxious  parents,  who, 
having  heard  the  cheering  we  have  described,  and,  for 
the  first  time,  found  courage  to  leave  the  house  with  any 
expectation  of  meeting  their  children  alive,  were  now, 
with  a  company  of  sympathizing  females,  hastening  on 
to  receive  them.  But  who  can  hope  adequately  to  de 
scribe  that  meeting,  where  tongues  were  mute,  and  over 
charged  hearts  only  spoke  in  the  dumb  tokens  of  quivering 
lips  and  streaming  eyes  ?  The  men  who  had  found  the 
lost  ones,  and  still  bore  them  in  their  arms,  had  framed 
gallant  speeches  for  this  occasion ;  but  they  were  all  for 
gotten  now,  and  the  children  were  hurriedly  passed  to 
the  eagerly  extended  arms  of  the  parents,  and  by  them 
convulsively  clasped  to  their  bosoms  in  silence.  Even 
the  iron-nerved  Allen,  usually  so  free  and  bold  of  speech, 
stood  by  and  looked  on  without  daring  to  trust  his  voice 
in  words.  And,  for  some  moments,  not  a  single  articu 
late  sound  was  heard  among  that  touched  and  tearful 
group,  till  the  spell  was  broken  by  the  simple  exclama 
tion  of  one  of  the  wondering  children. 

"  Why,  father  and  mother,  what  makes  you  cry  so  ?  " 
"  True,  true,  my  little  one,"  said  Allen,  dashing  away 
his  tears,  and  now  finding  the  use  of  his  tongue  —  "  here 
we  are,  sure  enough,  all  crying  like  a  pack  of  great  boo 
bies  ;  when,  if  any  company  on  earth  had  reason  to 
rejoice  and  be  merry,  it  is  we.  Come,  come,  let  us  try 
to  get  our  joy  "into  a  more  natural  channel,  and  then 
move  on  to  the  house."  The  head  of  the  column  was 


AND    THE    LOST    CHILDREN.  333 

again  brought  to  order,  and  passing  on  through  the  field, 
soon  entered  the  yard  of  that  house  whose  recent  sorrows 
were  now  to  give  place  to  rejoicing  and  thankfulness. 
Here  the  company  were  formed  into  two  extended  lines, 
a  few  feet  apart,  and  facing  each  other ;  when  the  grateful 
and  overjoyed  parents,  each  leading  a  child,  that  they 
might  be  seen  by  all,  passed  through  them,  followed  by 
Allen,  alternately  awakening,  by  his  lively  sallies  and 
timely  remarks,  the  mirth  and  good  feeling  of  all  those 
around  him,  and  declaring  for  himself  that  this  was  the 
happiest  hour  of  all  his  life.  After  this  gratifying  cere 
mony  was  over,  he  once  more  mounted  the  stump, 
the  rostrum  of  his  former  successful  appeal,  and,  in  be 
half  of  the  parents  of  the  recovered  children,  poured  forth 
the  warmest  expressions  of  gratitude  to  the  company  for 
their  kindness  and  long-continued  exertions,  and  ended 
by  an  ejaculation  of  thanks  to  God  for  his  mercy  and 
goodness  in  permitting  those  exertions  to  be  rewarded 
with  such  signal  success. 

The  assembly  then,  quietly  dispersing,  returned  to  their 
respective  homes,  each  proud  of  his  own  share  in  the 
achievement,  but  prouder  still  of  that  of  the  distinguished 
leader,  without  whose  presence  all  felt  conscious  the  af 
fair  must  have  terminated  in  sorrow  instead  of  rejoicing. 
And  who  shall  say,  great  as  the  fame  of  Ethan  Allen  is, 
for  deeds  of  noble  daring  and  brilliant  exploit,  as  a  war 
rior —  who  shall  say,  that  his  brightest  laurel  was  not 
won,  after  all,  in  that  noble,  though  little  known  act  of 
his  life,  which  resulted  in  the  recovery  of  the  "lost  chil 
dren,"  in  the  wilds  of  Sunderland  ? 


THE 


YOUNG  SEA  CAPTAIN 


THE  traveller,  in  making  the  tour  of  New  England, 
as  he  journeys  along  through  that  clustering  range  of 
smiling  villages  which,  like  a  starry  belt  of  the  heavens, 
stretches  round  her  peopled  coasts,  extending  back  many 
miles  inland  one  way,  and  in  an  almost  unbroken  chain 
the  other,  from  the  Penobscot  to  the  Hudson,  will  often 
find  his  attention  attracted  by  some  beautiful  residence, 
standing,  perhaps,  aloof  from  all  others,  on  a  conspicuous 
elevation,  or^other  eligible  spot,  and  so  far  outshining  them 
in  the  air  of  wealth,  taste,  and  comfort  that  seems  to  sur 
round  it,  as  generally  to  excite  the  curious  desire  to  know 
something  of  the  character  and  fortune  of  the  owner,  or, 
at  least,  of  the  constructer  of  so  imposing  an  establish 
ment.  And  scarcely  less  often  will  he  find,  on  inquiry, 
that  this  is,  or  has  been,  the  residence  of  a  retired  sea 
captain,  who,  having  made  a  fortune  by  professional  ser 
vices  and  trade  on  the  perilous  deep,  has  come  here  to 
spend  and  enjoy  it,  with  the  remainder  of  his  days,  in 
the  comparatively  tranquil  scenes  of  village  life.  Well, 
who  is  better  entitled  to  enjoy  the  fortune  he  has  made, 
both  on  account  of  the  toils,  responsibilities,  and  dangers 
he  has  passed  through  in  accumulating  it,  and  the  honest 


336  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

deserts  of  his  character,  than  is  generally  the  sea  cap 
tain  ?  For  we  do  not  believe,  —  and  we  speak  not  without 
a  somewhat  extended  acquaintance,  —  we  do  not  believe 
that  a  worthier  class  of  men  can  be  found  (a  class  of  men 
who  possess,  as  a  body,  more  of  all  the  substantial  vir 
tues)  who  are  more  uninfluenced  in  their  acts  by  the 
sordid  calculations  of  self,  or  who  are  more  alive  to  the 
calls  of  humanity,  when  they  take  their  stand  in  society, 
than  that  of  the  masters  of  all  the  higher  grades  of  our 
mercantile  vessels.  Nor  is  it  very  strange  that  they  are 
so  :  they  have  been  schooled  to  a  life  of  important  trusts 
and  responsibilities,  in  which  strict  integrity  and  correct 
habits  are  made  the  test  of  success ;  while  the  scenes  of 
trial  and  danger  they  so  frequently  experience  have  tend 
ed  to  teach  them  their  dependence  on  Providence,  and 
make  them  feel  for  the  wants  and  sufferings  of  their 
fellow-men. 

We  once  had  the  pleasure  of  forming  an  acquaintance 
with  a  gentleman  of  this  class,  whom  we  found  in  the 
enviable  situation  above  described,  and  whose  romantic 
and  singularly  good  fortunes  —  seemingly  the  natural 
result,  in  his  situation,  of  a  trustworthy  and  benevolent 
character  —  would  well  warrant  an  enlargement  into  a 
volume,  instead  of  the  brief  and  simple  narration  in 
which  we  propose  to  give  them. 

Captain  Loton  was,  emphatically,  the  architect  of  his 
own  fortunes.  Losing  his  last  remaining  parent  at  the 
age  of  sixteen,  and  being  thus  thrown  entirely  on  his 
own  resources,  he  left  his  native  place,  one  of  the  inte 
rior  towns  of  Massachusetts,  and,  without  a  friend  to 
recommend  or  introduce  him,  without  money,  except  a 
few  dollars  earned  for  the  premeditated  journey,  and 


THE    YOUNG    SEA   CAPTAIN.  337 

without  any  other  than  a  common-school  education, 
confidently  set  out  on  foot  and  alone  for  Boston,  resolved 
on  engaging  an  a  seafaring  life.  He  was  not  long,  after 
reaching  that  place,  in  finding  a  situation  in  a  merchant 
vessel,  and  he  unhesitatingly  entered  as  a  raw  hand,  at 
the  wages  the  owner  was  pleased  to  offer  him.  His  first 
spare  dollar  was  laid  out  for  a  work  on  navigation  ;  and 
so  intently  did  he  apply  himself  to  study,  while  becoming 
acquainted  with  the  practical  part  of  his  profession,  and 
so  rapidly  did  he  win  the  confidence  of  all  by  whom  he 
was  known,  that  at  eighteen  he  was  a  mate,  and  at  nine 
teen  the  master  of  a  vessel  trading  between  Boston  and 
Havana,  at  which  last-mentioned  place  his  good  conduct, 
together  with  his  prepossessing  exterior  and  youthfulness, 
attracted  much  notice,  and  gained  him  the  appellation 
of  the  "  handsome  and  trusty  Yankee  boy  captain." 

One  day,  in  the  early  part  of  his  career  as  commander, 
as  he  was  walking  the  streets  of  that  great  emporium 
of  the  West  Indies,  from  which  his  vessel  was  then  on 
the  point  of  sailing  on  her  homeward  passage,  he  noticed 
a  well-dressed  female,  with  a  large  work-basket  in  her  hand, 
walking  near  him  and  in  the  same  direction.  The  circum 
stance  did  not  at  first  very  particularly  attract  his  atten 
tion  ;  but  perceiving,  after  going  some  distance,  that  she 
was  still  near,  and  making,  as  he  fancied,  some  effort  to 
keep  pace  with  him,  he  slackened  his  speed,  and  finally 
turned  round,  and,  courteously  addressing  her,  asked  if 
she  was  going  far  his  way,  naming  the  public  house  at 
which  he  lodged.  "  She  was  —  and,  perhaps,  should  call 
—  at  least,  she  had  thought  of  calling  at  the  very  same 
house  he  had  mentioned,"  she  replied  in  a  soft,  tremulous 
tone,  as  she  looked  up  timidly  on  the  inquirer,  displaying 
29 


338 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 


a  fair,  pale  face,  in  which  the  traces  of  subdued  sorrow 
and  suffering  were  sufficiently  visible  to  give  eloquent 
effect  to  a  countenance  of  great  beauty  and  sweetness. 

Captain  Loton  was  at  once  touched  with  pity  by  her 
manner  and  appearance,  and,  in  a  tone  of  kindness 
rather  than  of  gallantry,  he  immediately  offered  his  ser 
vices  in  carrying  her  basket.  To  this  she  silently  assent 
ed,  and  he  took  the  basket  from  her  hand,  little  dreaming 
what  to  his  future  destiny  would  be  the  consequence  of 
the  act  of  that  moment.  He  could  not  but  notice,  how 
ever,  that,  as  she  delivered  him  her  burden,  she  seemed 
greatly  agitated,  and  manifested  a  hesitation  and  reluc 
tance  which  seemed  strangely  at  variance  with  her  first 
ready  assent.  But,  attributing  the  whole  to  maiden 
timidity,  or  the  fear  that  something  wrong  would  be 
asked  of  her  in  return,  he  walked  on  in  unsuspecting 
silence.  After  proceeding  a  short  distance  in  this  man 
ner,  the  lady  observed  to  him  that  she  was  under  the 
necessity  of  making  a  brief  call  at  the  house  then  at 
hand,  and,  if  he  was  disposed  to  continue  his  kindness, 
he  might  take  her  basket  along  with  him,  and  deposit  it 
in  the  hall  at  his  hotel ;  and,  throwing  an  anxious  and 
troubled  look  on  the  other  and  his  charge,  she  immediately 
disappeared.  Proceeding  directly  to  his  hotel,  Captain 
Loton  deposited  the  basket  in  the  hall,  as  requested,  and 
repaired  to  the  dinner  table,  where  the  guests  were  already 
assembled,  and  where  he  soon  related  his  adventure  with 
the  fair  unknown,  jovially  remarking  that,  when  she  called 
for  her  basket,  he  thought  he  should  attend  her  home, 
and  try  to  improve  his  acquaintance.  The  landlord,  better 
acquainted  with  the  manners  of  the  town,  and  recalling 
the  impositions  that  had  there  sometimes  been  practised 


THE  YOUNG  SEA  CAPTAIN.  339 

on  strangers  by  wanton  females,  in  palming  off  their  off 
spring,  smiled,  and  began  to  rally  him  on  the  possibility 
that  the  basket  in  question  might  contain  something  for 
which  the  owner  might  not  be  likely  to  call  very  soon, 
and  advised  him  to  examine  it.  At  that  moment  the 
cries  of  a  child  were  heard  issuing  from  the  basket,  and 
a  roar  of  laughter  burst  from  the  gentlemen  at  the  table 
at  his  expense.  Though  greatly  surprised,  and  not  a  little 
chagrined,  at  this  sudden  proof  of  what  his  host  had  just 
suggested,  Captain  Loton  yet  bore  the  laugh  and  merry 
jokes  of  the  company  with  unruffled  good  humor,  and, 
rising  from  the  table,  he  coolly  proceeded  to  the  basket, 
opened  it,  and  found  it  contained,  surely  enough,  an  infant 
—  a  very  pretty  and  healthy-looking  female  infant  —  in 
whose  features  he  could  clearly  trace  the  lineaments  of  that 
pale  and  sorrowful  face  which  had  so  won  upon  his  heart, 
and  which,  one  hour  before,  he  supposed  belonged  to  one 
as  excellent  in  virtue  as  she  was  lovely  in  person.  And 
he  could  not  now  feel  to  condemn  her,  dupe  as  he  knew 
he  would  be  considered  of  her  artifice,  or  bring  himself  to 
believe  that  this  seemingly  unnatural  act  was  committed 
by  her  except  under  some  peculiar  exigency.  But  however 
that  might  be,  he  knew  he  was  now  fairly  saddled  with 
a  responsibility  which  he  little  coveted.  Still  he  had  too 
much  independence  of  mind  and  benevolence  of  heart 
to  suffer  the  ridicule  of  his  acquaintance  to  drive  him 
to  neglect  his  charge,  as  much  as  he  was  at  loss  what 
to  do  with  it. 

"  O,  don't  look  so  serious  about  it,  Loton,"  said  one 
of  his  acquaintances.  "  The  city  provides  for  such  cases  ; 
send  it  to  the  almshouse." 

"  Never ! "  replied  the  other,  "  if  money  will  procure  it 
a  better  situation." 


340  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

And,  in  pursuance  of  his  benevolent  resolution,  he 
made  immediate  search  for  a  nurse ;  and  he  was  soon 
fortunate  enough  to  find  a  good  one,  with  whom  he  made 
a  satisfactory  arrangement  to  take  the  child  to  her  house 
and  keep  it  till  she  saw  him  again.  He  then  went  on 
board  his  vessel,  weighed  anchor,  and  set  sail  for  home. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Boston,  Captain  Loton  was 
promoted  to  the  command  of  an  Indiaman,  and  made 
two  successful  voyages  to  the  East.  But  his  bosom  had 
been  touched,  and,  in  spite  of  all  his  endeavors  to  banish 
thoughts  which  his  better  judgment  told  him  he  had 
little  reason  to  cherish,  the  image  of  one  soft,  speaking 
countenance  continued  to  haunt  him,  and  his  heart 
secretly  yearned  to  resume  an  intercourse  with  that 
sunny  garden  of  the  ocean  with  which  those  truant 
thoughts  were  associated.  As  will  be  anticipated,  there 
fore,  he  conceived  a  distaste  to  the  East  India  voyages, 
and  yielding  his  post  to  another,  and  accepting  an  offer 
he  had  received  to  take  command  of  a  fine  vessel  fitting 
out  for  the  West  Indies,  he  was  soon  on  his  way  to  the 
scene  of  his  former  adventure,  which  he  reached  after  an 
absence  of  nearly  three  years. 

As  soon  as  the  duties  connected  with  the  landing  of 
his  vessel  would  permit,  Captain  Loton  went  in  search 
of  his  protege,  whom  he  found  in  the  care  of  the  same 
poor  but  worthy  woman  to  whose  trust  the  child  was  at 
first  consigned,  and  to  whose  faithfulness  to  that  trust 
a  sufficient  witness  was  seen  in  the  neat  and  healthy 
appearance  of  the  child  herself,  now  grown  from  the 
helpless  and  unconscious  infant  he  left  her  to  an  inter 
esting  little  prattler. 

"  She  recalls  to  my  mind  more  and  more  of  her  moth- 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 


341 


er's  looks,  every  time  I  turn  my  eye  upon  her  face," 
observed  the  captain  with  a  half  sigh,  after  musingly 
gazing  at  "the  object  of  his  remark,  during  a  moment 
when  she  rested  from  her  childish  pranks,  and  turned 
towards  him  with  a  look  of  wondering  innocence.  "  But 
what  do  you  call  her  ? "  he  added,  addressing  himself 
more  directly  to  the  woman. 

"  Mary." 

«  Mary  what  ?  " 

"  Mary  Loton,  to  be  sure,"  replied  the  woman,  with  a 
queer,  meaning  expression. 

"  Why,  you  don't  suppose  this  to  be  my  child,  except 
by  its  coming  into  my  possession  by  finding,  as  the  law 
yers  say  in  their  writs,  do  you  ?  "  asked  the  captain  in 
surprise. 

"  There  are  others  that  will  have  it  so,  at  any  rate," 
answered  the  woman. 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  have  not  believed  them,  and,  least 
of  all,  so  far  as  to  prevent  you  from  trying  to  discover 
the  mother,  as  I  requested  you  to  do." 

"  No,  I  have  not  believed  them,  for  I  knew  your  char 
acter,  and  I  have  taken  much  pains  in  endeavoring  to 
find  out  the  mother." 

"  And  with  what  success  ?" 

"  Little  or  none.  No  inquiries  have  ever  been  made 
for  the  child ;  and  I  think  the  mother,  if  not  an  irretriev 
ably  lost  character,  must  have  left  the  island  immediately, 
—  perhaps  with  some  one  of  the  many  families  that  come 
to  winter  here  from  England  or  the  American  coast; 
perhaps  she  was  herself  a  foreigner,  and  came  here  with 
them." 

"  Probably  you  are  right ;  for  an  abandoned  woman  I 
will  never  believe  her." 
29* 


342  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

"  I  hope  she  was  not;  but  whatever  was  the  mother, 
her  babe  has  proved  one  of  the  sweetest  of  children,  and 
has  served  to  supply  in  my  affections,  as  far  as  any  child 
not  my  own  could,  the  place  of  the  one  I  lost  a  few  weeks 
before  I  took  her.  And,  besides,  sir,  I  should  add,  that, 
since  the  death  of  my  husband,  that  happened  the  year 
after,  as  you  may  have  heard,  the  liberal  pay  you  author 
ized  me  to  draw  on  your  trading-house  has  been  a  great 
help  to  me ;  and  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  still  to  keep 
your  little  Mary  for  you  many  years  longer." 

"  Certainly  ;  and  with  many  thanks  for  the  manner  in 
which  you  have  discharged  your  duty  to  me  and  to 
humanity." 

During  Captain  Loton's  stay  in  the  city,  he  almost 
daily  visited  the  child,  and  soon  became  so  much  attached 
to  her,  that  he  took  more  pleasure  than  ever  in  recalling 
the  incident  which  gave  him,  as  he  now  hesitated  not  to 
call  her,  his  adopted  daughter.  During  the  following 
twelve  years,  the  captain,  once  or  oftener  in  each  year, 
returned  to  Havana,  and  always  provided  liberally  for  the 
support  and  education  of  his  charge.  And  although  it 
required,  with  his  own  expenses,  nearly  all  his  earnings, 
yet  this  was  done  without  any  of  that  regret,  that  draw 
back  of  feeling,  which  too  often  attends  ostensive  benev 
olence,  and  makes  charity  little  less  than  an  abomination 
in  the  sight  of  Heaven.  For  his  heart  was  ever  warm 
with  generous  impulses,  and  never  paused,  while  within 
the  bounds  of  ordinary  prudence,  to  call  in  the  aid  of 
arithmetical  calculation  to  measure  its  munificence,  and 
he  continued  to  manifest  towards  the  child  of  his  volun 
tary  adoption  the  affection  and  tenderness  of  a  parent, 
and  took  a  parent's  interest  in  her  welfare.  She  had 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN.  343 

now  arrived  at  the  age  of  fifteen  —  an  age  which,  in  that 
soft  and  quickening  climate,  confers  the  maturity  of 
womanhood,  and  more  perfectly,  perhaps,  than  any  other 
period,  opens  the  blossom  of  female  beauty.  And  she 
was  esteemed  as  possessing  an  uncommon  share  of  that 
more  envied  than  enviable  gift,  unless  united,  as  was 
happily  the  case  in  the  present  instance,  with  good  sense 
and  intelligence.  Captain  Loton,  as  may  be  supposed, 
was  not  a  little  proud  at  the  development  of  such  qual 
ities  in  one  whom  he  had  sacrificed  so  much  to  rear. 
And  such  was  his  attachment,  that  the  rumor  before 
mentioned,  that  she  was  his  natural  daughter,  gave 
place  to  another,  that  his  must  be  other  than  parental 
affection,  and  that  he  soon  was  to  make  her  the  partner 
of  his  life.  This  rumor,  at  length,  reached  the  ears  of 
both,  and  on  both  it  produced  nearly  the  same  effect  — 
that  of  aversion  to  th^  thought,  at  first,  of  beginning  to 
look  upon  each  other  in  connection  with  so  different  a 
relation  from  what  they  had  accustomed  themselves. 
But  it  was  beginning  to  start  a  new  train  of  reflections 
in  the  bosoms  of  each.  They  were  beginning  to  ask 
themselves,  "  Why  not  ?  "  And,  though  nothing  on  the 
subject  had  passed  between  them,  yet  it  is  hard  telling 
what  might  have  been  the  result,  but  for  the  happening 
of  the  unexpected  incident  which  brings  us  to  the  de 
nouement  of  our  little  romance  in  real  life. 

The  voyage  of  Captain  Loton,  to  which  this  portion 
of  the  tale  refers,  was  commenced  about  the  time  of  the 
setting  in  of  the  northern  winter,  in  a  new  ship,  with  re 
markably  fine  accommodations,  which,  having  become  a 
part  owner,  he  had  contrived  to  have  called  the  "  Mary," 
in  compliment  to  his  fair  protege,  and  not  without  the 


344  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

half-formed,  secret  expectation,  perhaps,  that  the  latter 
might  grace  her  fine  rooms,  on  her  homeward  passage, 
under  a  new  and  more  endearing  title.  On  his  arrival 
at  Havana,  he  found  the  city  unusually  gay  and  lively, 
on  account  of  the  return  of  the  wealthy  from  their  sum 
mer  tour  to  Bermuda,  on  the  American  coast,  together 
with  the  influx  of  northern  strangers,  resorting  hither  at 
this  season,  like  birds  of  passage,  to  escape  the  rigors  of 
their  frosty  clime  during  the  dreary  months  of  winter. 
"With  the  company  thus  brought  together  came  the 
usual  rounds  of  popular  amusements  ;  among  which,  the 
one  of  the  greatest  resort  by  the  higher  classes,  at  this 
time,  was  the  theatre,  in  which  a  popular  English  actor, 
then  on  a  short  sojourn  in  the  island,  was  performing. 
And  to  witness  one  of  his  representations,  Captain  Loton, 
one  evening,  was  induced  to  listen  to  the  solicitations  of 
a  friend  belonging  to  the  city,  aijd  attend  the  theatre 
with  him. 

"  Here,  Loton,"  said  the  friend,  after  they  had  been 
seated  a  few  moments,  and  were  glancing  over  the  fash 
ionable  assemblage,  while  waiting  for  the  rising  of  the 
curtain,  "  do  you  see  that  lady,  in  the  sky-colored  dress, 
in  the  box  nearly  opposite,  there,  by  the  column  ?" 

"  The  lady  that  is  now  rising  to  adjust  her  shawl  ?  Yes, 
I  do,  now ;  and  a  finely-turned  figure,  very,  she  can  boast ; 
don't  you  call  it  so  ?  "  replied  the  other,  glancing  with  in- 
teiest  on  the  object  thus  pointed  out  to  him. 

"Ay,  and  a  no  less  finely-formed  set  of  features,  which, 
a  moment  since,  were  turned  full  upon  us  ;  but,  as  I 
jogged  you,  she  dropped  her  veil  over  them." 

«  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  A  young  widow  Grayson,  recently  from  the  interior 


THE    YOUNG     SEA     CAPTAIN.  o45 

of  the  island,  as  an  acquaintance,  famous  for  finding  out 
the  history  of  new  comers,  informed  me  a  night  or  two 
ago,  after  pointing  her  out  to  me ;  and  her  history  is  a 
very  singular  one." 

"  Indeed  —  how  so  ?  " 

"  Why,  having  become  acquainted  with  a  young  man 
of  our  class  —  a  trader  of  this  city  —  she  privately 
married  him  —  which  soon  coming  to  the  ears  of  her 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  father,  he  disinherited  her, 
though  an  only  child,  and  drove  her  from  home.  She 
then  came  here,  and  joined  her  husband,  who,  dying  soon 
after,  left  her,  in  consequence  of  the  fraud  of  a  partner, 
wholly  destitute,  and  she  has  been  a  dependant  on  some 
family  in  Bermuda,  who  picked  her  up  here,  and  in  pity 
took  her  home  with  them  to  that  island,  where  she  has 
remained  in  exile  ever  since  —  a  dozen  years  or  more  — 
till  a  few  months  ago,  when  she  was  recalled  to  take  pos 
session  of  her  fortune,  left  her  by  the  merest  accident,  on 
the  sudden  death  of  her  father.  His  will  disinheriting  her, 
and  giving  his  property  to  collateral  relations,  remained 
unaltered,  it  appeared,  till  last  summer;  when  getting 
offended  with  one  branch  of  the  legatees,  he  determined 
to  cut  them  short.  So,  sending  for  his  attorney,  he 
directed  him  to  write  a  new  will,  which  was  done,  and 
the  instrument  made  ready  for  his  signature,  his  daughter 
being  still  left  out.  The  old  will  was  then  destroyed ; 
and  a  servant  was  sent  out  for  witnesses  to  attest  the 
signing  of  the  new  one.  But  one  of  those  whom  the  old 
gentleman  had  selected  for  thu  purpose  had  been  sud 
denly  called  away,  and  it  was  concluded  to  defer  the 
execution  of  the  will  till, the  next  morning.  That  night 
the  heartless  testator  died  of  an  apoplexy,  leaving  his 


346  THE    YOUNG     SEA     CAPTAIN. 

daughter,  that  lady,  yonder,  sole  heir  to  one  of  the  finest 
estates  in  Cuba." 

The  curtain  now  rose,  and  though  Captain  Loton  for 
a  while  often  found  his  eyes  straying  towards  the  fair 
creature  whose  history  he  had  just  heard,  and  about  whose 
appearance,  as  little  as  he  could  see  of  her,  there  was  a 
certain  something  that  created  in  his  bosom  a  sort  of 
undefined  feeling  of  interest,  which  he  could  not  account 
for  himself;  yet,  as  the  play  went  on,  his  attention  grad 
ually  became  interested  in  the  development  of  the  plot, 
and  at  length  the  object  of  these  reveries  passed  wholly 
from  his  mind,  and  was  not  recalled  for  the  remainder  of 
the  evening. 

The  incident,  however,  though  lost  sight  of  through 
the  last  part  of  the  performance,  and  the  busy  morning 
with  him  which  followed,  was  brought  fully  to  his  mind 
during  the  day  by  another,  as  little  expected  as  the  first, 
and  more  calculated  to  excite  his  interest  and  curi 
osity.  As  he  was  retiring  from  his  dinner  table,  a  black 
boy  put  a  billet  into  his  hands,  and  immediately  disap 
peared.  Perceiving  the  superscription  to  be  in  a  lady's 
hand,  and  one  that  was  wholly  unknown  to  him,  it  was 
with  considerable  surprise  that  he  opened  *the  billet,  and 
with  much  more  that  he  read  the  neatly-penned  but  brief 
contents :  — 

"'Will  Captain  Loton  accept  an  invitation  to  sup,  at 

six  o'clock  this  evening,  at  No.  20 Street  ?     By  so 

doing  he  will  afford  a  lady  the  desired  opportunity  of  com 
municating  with  him  on  a  subject  of  great  interest  to 
her,  and  not  wholly  without  interest,  she  trusts,  to  him. 

"  JULIA   G." 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN.  347 

"Julia  G.,"  he  repeated  to  himself,  after  a  second  time 
reading  the  note  —  "  Julia  G.  —  Grayson,  the  lady  at  the 
theatre  last  night  —  it  will  answer  for  that  name  —  yet 
what  can  she  know  of  me,  or  what  want  of  me?  It 
can't  be,  and  still  —  but  I  will  go  and  solve  the  mystery, 
come  what  may  of  it." 

A  little  reflection,  however,  tended  not  a  little  to  abate 
the  romantic  interest  with  which  he  was  first  inclined  to 
invest  the  incident,  and  caused  him  to  waver  in  his  deter 
mination.  Neither  the  house  designated,  nor  any  family 
occupying  it,  were  at  all  known  to  him  ;  and  so  singular 
were  all  the  circumstances  attending  this  invitation,  that 
he  at  one  time  inclined  to  believe  it  a  hoax  —  at  another 
he  suspected  it  to  be  the  artifice  of  some  designing  per 
son  to  lead  him  into  difficulty,  and  would  pay  no  atten 
tion  to  it.  But  curiosity,  and  a  feeling  something  like  a 
presentiment  that  the  visit  was  to  terminate  happily,  at 
length  prevailed  ;  and  at  the  appointed  hour  he  set  forth, 
and  proceeded,  in  a  state  of  doubt  and  agitation  very  un 
usual  with  his  calm  temperament,  to  search  out  the  house 
in  question.  In  this  he  soon  succeeded  ;  and  finding 
the  designated  number  attached  to  a  dwelling-house, 
the  appearance  of  which  satisfied  him  of  the  respectabil 
ity  at  least  of  its  occupants,  he  approached,  and,  with  a 
beating  heart,  rang  for  admittance.  A  servant  appeared, 
and  ushering  him  through  a  saloon  to  the  entrance  of  a 
large  and  elegantly  furnished  parlor,  motioned  him  in, 
and  immediately  retired.  Captain  Loton  now  advanced 
a  step  or  two  within  the  threshold ;  but  perceiving  no 
one  in  the  room,  and  thinking  he  heard  some  one  in 
an  apartment  opening  into  it,  he  paused,  and  was  hesi 
tating  whether  to  take  a  seat  here,  or  pass  through  to  the 


348  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

next  room,  when  a  light  female  figure  suddenly  darted 
from  behind  the  door  ajar  on  his  left,  and  throwing  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  gave  him  a  lively  smack  on  his 
cheek,  and  then  springing  back  a  step,  and  looking  up 
with  an  air  of  roguish  triumph,  burst  out  into  a  merry 
peal  of  laughter. 

"  Mary  !  "  exclaimed  the  captain,  throwing  a  look  of 
the  utmost  surprise,  though  not  of  displeasure,  upon  his 
adopted  daughter.  "  This,  then,  is  a  plot  of  your  hatch 
ing,  is  it,  you  incorrigible  young  rogue  ?  " 

"  Well,  admitting  it  to  be  so,"  laughingly  retorted  the 
vivacious  girl,  "  you  richly  deserve  it  at  my  hands,  sir,  for 
your  neglect.  You  have  not  been  to  see  me  for  almost  a 
whole  week." 

"  I  have  been  up  to  my  ears  in  business,  child." 

"  And  yet  my  consistent  father  found  time  to  attend 
the  theatre  last  night,  and  to  come  here  this  evening,  it 
seems,  even  on  the  invitation  of  a  stranger." 

"  Stranger !  —  then  you  did  not  write  that  billet  after 
all?  But  who  is  that  stranger,  Mary,  whose  house  you 
appear  to  be  so  much  at  home  in  ?  " 

"  A  new  acquaintance." 

«  Ay  —  but  who  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  secret,"  archly  replied  the  girl;  "but  all 
in  good  time  —  another  scene  of  the  plot,  as  you  call  it, 
remains  to  be  developed.  Excuse  me  a  moment  now, 
if  you  please,  sir,  and  you  shall  soon  know  the  whole," 
she  added,  skipping  out  of  the  room,  and  leaving  the 
captain  with  a  bosom  fluttering  with  excited  expectation 
to  await  her  return. 

In  a  few  moments  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  she 
reappeared  arm  in  arm  with  a  lady  with  the  bloom  of 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN.  349 

sixteen  added  to  the  ripened  countenance  of  thirty,  the 
rare  beauty  of  which  was  now  charmingly  heightened 
by  the  sweet  embarrassment  she  was  trying  to  conceal. 
*  "  Father,"  said  the  happy  girl,  in  a  voice  tremulous 
with  grateful  emotion,  "  this  is  Mrs.  Grayson,  and  my 
own  mother." 

Captain  Loton  advanced,  and  warmly  grasping  the 
proffered  hand  of  the  fair  lady,  led  her  to  a  seat. 

"  A  more  grateful  surprise,"  said  the  captain,  after  the 
parties  had  measurably  recovered  their  composure — "a 
more  grateful  surprise,  Mrs.  Grayson,  could  hardly  have 
been  devised  for  me  even  in  fancy." 

"  Many  thanks,"  replied  the  lady,  with  feeling,  "  many 
thanks  to  you,  Captain  Loton,  for  this  kind  assurance  in 
the  present,  and  still  more  for  your  noble  conduct  in  af 
fairs  of  the  past,  of  which  I  have  much  to  say,  but 
with  your  leave  will  defer  it  to  a  less  agitating  moment." 

The  ice  of  restraint  having  now  been  broken,  a  pleas 
ant  conversation  ensued,  which  soon  turned  so  far  on  the 
subject  of  their  present  meeting,  as  to  unfold  to  the  cap 
tain  the  circumstances  which  had  brought  it  about.  It 
appeared  that  Mrs.  Grayson,  though  she  had  been  several 
weeks  in  the  city,  had  never  been  able  to  learn  any  thing 
of  her  daughter  till  the  night  before.  She  had  identified 
Captain  Loton  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  theatre,  and  his 
name  being  mentioned  by  a  lady,  a  stranger  to  her,  who 
happened  to  be  in  the  same  box,  joined  in  the  conversa 
tion,  and  named  the  circumstance  which  she  had  heard, 
of  an  American  sea  captain  of  that  name  having  adopted, 
as  a  daughter,  a  child  who  was  picked  up  by  him  in  the 
street,  who  was  then  living,  she  believed,  with  a  family 
in  her  part  of  the  city.  This  led  to  such  further  inquiries 
30 


350  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

and  answers  as  made  Mrs.  Grayson  acquainted,  without 
revealing  her  own' interest  in  the  subject,  with  the  exact 
situation  of  the  place  where  the  girl,  whom  she  doubted 
not  to  be  her  child,  couldT)e  found,  and  ended  in  a  prom 
ise  of  an  introduction  to  the  family.  And  so  promptly 
did  she  avail  herself  of  these  advantages  the  next  morn 
ing,  that  before  noon,  the  reunion  of  mother  and  daugh 
ter  was  so  happily  effected,  and  with  such  confidence  in 
each  other,  that  the  latter  went  home  with  the  former, 
where  the  present  surprise  and  meeting  were  planned  and 
executed  in  the  manner  we  have  described. 

Supper  was  now  announced,  and  Mrs.  Grayson  led  the 
way  to  the  table,  which  was  loaded  with  the  rarest  of 
delicacies,  and  which,  with  a  nice  appreciation  of  the  cir 
cumstances,  she  had  caused  to  be  set  for  the  three  only ; 
and  never  was  social  board  surrounded  by  hearts  pos 
sessing  a  livelier  interest  in  each  other,  or  more  capable 
of  imparting  and  receiving  happiness  among  themselves, 
than  those  here  assembled  on  the  evening  so  memorable 
in  their  respective  destinies. 

After  the  repast  was  over,  they  returned  to  the  parlor  ; 
when  the  daughter,  after  exchanging  a  look  of  intelligence 
with  the  mother,  left  the  room. 

"  Now,  Captain  Loton,"  said  Mrs.  G.,  "  I  will  ask  your 
indulgence  while  I  revert  to  that  dark  spot  in  my  check 
ered  life,  when,  a  poor,  broken-hearted  creature,  I  met  you 
in  the  streets  of  this  city  ;  and  though  I  expect  not  to  jus 
tify  my  conduct,  yet  I  hope  to  offer  circumstances  which 
you  will  consider  some  extenuation  of  an  act  which  you 
must  have  looked  upon  as  both  base  and  unnatural." 

"  No,  lady,"  interposed  the  captain,  "  not  so  —  I  believed 
you  driven  to  the  course  you  took  by  misfortunes,  that 
should  awaken  sympathy  rather  than  censure." 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN.  351 

"  You  judged  generously,  if  not  truly,  sir,  and  I  shall, 
with  more  confidence,  give  you  my  little  history." 

She  then  proceeded  to  relate  her  story  as  Loton  had 
already  heard  it,  with  the  addition  that,  as  soon  as  it  was 
discovered  by  her  landlord  that  her  husband  had  died 
without  leaving  any  means  for  her  future  support,  or  even 
for  paying  the  small  debt  already  contracted,  he  harshly 
ordered  her  to  leave  the  house  and  seek  new  quarters  ; 
and,  by  way  of  justifying  himself  in  his  cruel  course,  he 
assailed  her  character,  giving  out  that,  though  a  mother, 
she  had  never  been  a  wife.  This,  she  soon  found,  it  was 
easier  to  deny  than  to  make  the  contrary  appear  by  any 
evidence  that  would  command  belief.  The  clergyman 
by  whom  she  was  privately  married  was  not  a  perma 
nent  resident,  and  had  left  the  island  for  parts  unknown 
to  her;  and  the  only  witness  of  the  marriage  had  died 
of  the  yellow  fever  a  few  months  after  that  event ;  and 
her  own  assertions  gaining  no  credit  against  the  studi 
ously-circulated  insinuations  of  her  slanderer,  she  was 
now  turned  into  the  streets  in  perfect  destitution,  and, 
finding  every  door  shut  against  her  among  the  few  ac 
quaintances  she  had  formed  in  the  city,  despair  took  pos 
session  of  her  mind,  and  she  prayed  for  death  to  end  her 
sorrows.  In  this  forlorn  and  distracted  condition,  she 
wandered  from  street  to  street  with  her  babe  in  her  arms, 
till  utter  exhaustion  compelled  her  to  seek  a  place  for 
rest,  which  she  soon  found  in  a  corner  of  a  veranda  of  a 
large  warehouse.  Here,  unobserved,  among  the  bales  of 
goods  which  screened  her  from  public  view,  she  hushed 
her  babe  to  sleep,  and  for  a  bed  deposited  it  in  the  basket 
containing  all  that  was  left  unsold  of  her  wardrobe.  As 
she  was  thus  employed,  and  while  she  was  darkly  revolv- 


352  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

ing  in  her  mind  the  fearful  alternatives  of  suicide  or  a 
life  of  beggary  and  disgrace,  her  eye  fell  on  Captain 
Loton,  standing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  whom 
she  heard  a  gentleman  near  her  pointing  out  by  name  to 
another  as  an  American  sea  captain  of  many  fine  qual 
ities  ;  and  the  sudden  thought  struck  her  that  she  would 
throw  herself  on  his  mercy.  But  as  she  approached  him, 
her  courage  failed  her,  and  she  suffered  him  to  pass  away 
without  attracting  his  notice.  It  was,  however,  as  she 
thought,  her  last  hope,  and  she  timidly  followed  him  till 
he  turned  and  took  her  burden  from  her  hands.  She 
could  not  even  then  open  to  him  her  wishes,  or  tell  him 
what  the  basket  contained.  And  knowing  that  the  truth 
might  the  next  moment  be  revealed,  and  fearing  it  would 
bring  her  a  humiliating  repulse,  she  resolved,  in  her  des 
peration,  to  throw  her  child  on  his  benevolence,  and  hie 
herself  away  to  some  lone  spot  to  die.  Accordingly,  with 
a  hastily-breathed  prayer  for  her  child's  safety,  and  with 
some  directions  to  him,  she  scarcely  knew  what,  she 
passed  hurriedly  into  an  alley,  and  fell  down  in  a  swoon 
at  the  door  of  a  benevolent  lady,  by  whom  she  was  taken 
into  the  house,  revived,  pitied,  retained  in  the  family,  and, 
in  a  few  days,  invited  to  go  with  them  to  their  home  in 
Bermuda,  where  she  became  a  permanent  resident,  and 
where  she  once,  and  once  only,  had  the  unspeakable 
pleasure  to  learn,  accidentally,  that  her  child  survived,  and 
,had  been  adopted  by  him  in  whose  hands  she  left  it. 

"  This  is  all  I  can  offer  by  way  of  palliation,"  said  the 
lady,  as  she  concluded  her  story. 

"  And  what  more  or  better  could  be  offered,  dear  lady," 
responded  Captain  Loton  in  a  frank  and  cordial  manner; 
"for  me  it  is  enough — abundantly  enough  —  to  confirm 


THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 


353 


the  charitable  view  of  the  act  which  I  have  ever  con 
tended  it  should  receive." 

"  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  you,  sir,"  rejoined  the  other 
with  emotion,  "  for  a  construction  which  few,  perhaps, 
under  the  circumstances,  would  have  put  on  my  motives 
and  conduct ;  and  for  this  part  of  my  obligations  I  feel 
that  I  can  never  sufficiently  reward  you.  But  for  all  the 
rest  I  am  happy  in  having  it  in  my  power  to  remunerate 
you.  And  now  I  offer  you  a  pecuniary  compensation 
for  all  your  sacrifices,  expenses,  and  care  of  my  daughter, 
in  such  sum  as  you  shall  name." 

"  As  to  pecuniary  reward,"  observed  the  captain,  "  I 
have  never  expected  any,  nor  can  I  think  of  accepting 
any.  The  act  of  taking  charge  of  and  adopting  your 
daughter  was,  on  my  part,  wholly  voluntary;  and  I  have 
been  amply  repaid  for  my  protection  in  the  affectionate 
conduct  and  interesting  society  of  her  whom  I  have  thus 
far  protected,  but  whom  I  will  now  relinquish  to  a  moth 
er's  better  right." 

"  I  may  not  deserve  the  boon,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  "  but 
for  one  purpose  I  will  accept  it.  You  decline  receiving 
all  pecuniary  reward ;  but  should  a  remuneration  of 
another  kind  be  desired  by  you,  and  the  object  be  not 
averse,  you  have  now  empowered  me  to  award  it." 

"  You  overpower  me,  fair  lady,  by  your  offers,  and, 
especially,  by  your  last  flattering  suggestion.  But  have 
you  considered  well,  and  concluded  the  most  wisely,  in 
view  of  the  respective  positions  in  which  we  three  have 
stood,  and  now  stand,  towards  each  other  ?  " 

"  Another  choice,  certainly,  if  equally  acceptable,  might 
be  happier  foj  us  all,"  replied  the  other,  with  encrimson- 
30* 


354  THE    YOUNG    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

ing  cheek ;  "  but  can  you  expect  me,  unsought,  to  give 
you  a  further  option  ?  " 

At  that  moment  of  sweet  embarrassment,  they  looked 
up  and  beheld  Mary  standing  in  the  doorway,  where  she 
had  become  an  involuntary  listener  to  the  latter  part  of 
the  discourse;  and  she  was  on  the  point  of  retreating; 
but  on  perceiving  she  was  noticed,  she  came  forward, 
and,  blushing  even  more  deeply  than  her  mother,  she 
took  a  hand  of  each  of  the  others  and  joined  them  to 
gether. 

"  It  is  better  thus,"  she  said,  and  darted  from  the  room. 

Little  now  remains  to  be  told  but  what  the  reader's 
imagination  will  readily  supply.  The  fine  apartments 
of  the  good  ship  Mary,  on  her  homeward  passage,  though 
she  was  much  delayed  by  the  round  of  fetes  and  dis 
charge  of  responsibilities,  in  which  her  master  had  unex 
pectedly  become  a  principal  actor,  were  indeed  graced  by 
the  presence  of  not  only  one,  but  two,  of  the  most  lovely 
of  females  —  one  with  the  still  unchanged  title  of  daugh 
ter,  and  the  other  with  the  still  more  endearing  title  of 
wife,  from  whom  and  the  deserving  son  of  the  ocean  who 
had  thus  nobly  won  her  hand  and  fortune  are  now  spring 
ing  up  one  of  the  finest  families  in  New  England. 


THE 


OLD  SOLDIER'S  STORY 


THE  following  very  singular  adventure  was  related  by 
an  old  soldier  of  the  revolutionary  army,  who  lived,  till 
within  a  few  years,  to  repeat  it  over  and  over  at  the  so 
cial  firesides  of  his  numerous  descendants.  Although 
the  incident,  on  which  the  story  turns,  is  fraught  not 
slightly  with  the  marvellous,  yet,  as  he  was  a  man  whose 
veracity  was  unquestioned  on  other  matters,  we  will  give 
it  as  he  invariably  told  it,  leaving  the  reader  to  account 
for  it  if  he  can,  as  we  have  often,  but  always  unsucce"ss- 
fully,  tried  to  do,  on  natural  principles,  or  else  settle 
down  in  the  opinions  which  the  old  soldier  himself  al 
ways  entertained  —  that  it  was  a  special  interposition  of 
divine  Providence  to  save  his  life,  and  the  lives  of  his 
companions. 

"  It  was  in  the  eventful  summer  of  1777,  when  Gen 
eral  Burgoyne  was  pouring  the  numerous  troops  of  his 
invading  army  along  the  western  shores  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  towards  the  very  unequal  forces  of  the  Americans 
at  Ticonderoga,  and  the  whole  wilderness  was  resound 
ing  with  the  notes  of  hostile  preparation,  that  a  small 
party,  consisting  of  myself  and  three  others,  were  de-r 
tached  from  St.  Glair's  post,  to  proceed  down  the  lake, 


356  THE  OLD  SOLDIER'S  STORY. 

as  scouts,  to  watch  and  report  the  movements  of  the 
approaching  enemy.  We  were  fully  aware  of  the  perils 
which  we  were  likely  to  encounter;  for  the  echoes  of  the 
war  whoop,  which  rose  from  the  great  feast  just  given 
by  Burgoyne,  and  shook  the  startled  wilderness  with  the 
congregated  yells  of  two  thousand  savages,  had  scarcely 
died  away  among  the  mountains,  and  parties  of  their 
warriors  were  supposed  to  be  prowling  the  woods  in 
every  direction.  We  proceeded,  therefore,  slowly,  and 
with  great  caution.  But  all  our  watchfulness  was  des 
tined  to  avail  us  nothing ;  for,  while  sitting  round  a 
spring,  in  one  of  the  deep,  woody  ravines  that  run  up 
from  the  western  side  of  the  lake,  where  we  had  halted 
for  refreshment,  we  were  surprised  by  a  party  of  about  a 
dozen  French  and  Indians,  and,  after  a  short  .resistance, 
in  which  two  of  the  latter  were  slain,  overpowered  and 
taken  prisoners.  Our  captors,  after  strongly  binding  our 
hands,  and  placing  a  guard  at  the  side  of  each,  marched 
us  tdown  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  we  arrived 
about  sunset  A  consultation  was  now  held,  which  ter 
minated,  evidently,  in  some  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of 
the  Indians,  though,  as  we  did  not  understand  their  lan 
guage,  we  were  unable  to  gather  the  cause,  or  any  thing, 
indeed,  by  which  we  could  form  a  probable  conjecture  of 
the  destiny  that  awaited  us  captives.  We  were  then 
hurried  into  a  light  bateau,  which  was  drawn  from  a 
covert  of  bushes  extending  into  the  water;  and  the  cer 
emony  of  placing  guards  at  the  side  of  each  of  us  having 
again  taken  place,  our  boat  was  directed  northwardly 
along  the  shore,  towards  the  British  carnp,  which  I 
judged  to  be  ten  or  twelve  miles  distant.  The  afternoon 
had  boon  unusually  dark  nnd  cloudy,  and  we  had  not 


357 

pursued  our  course  long  before  one  of  the  blackest  nights 
that  I  ever  knew  shut  down  on  the  sleeping  waters  of 
the  lake.  Without  the  interchange  of  a  word,  however, 
our  sharp-built  little  craft  was  impelled  over  the  waters 
by  the  sinewy  arms  of  the  natives  with  great  velocity. 
The  oars  were  occasionally  stayed,  indeed,  and  their 
heads  were  intently  bent  down  to  the  surface  of  the 
water,  for  the  purpose,  probably,  both  of  ascertaining 
their  direction  by  the  different  shades  between  the  water 
and  woods,  and  of  listening  for  any  other  boats  that 
might  be  abroad  in  pursuit.  But  we  could  not  dis 
tinguish  land  from  water,  and  no  sound  reached  our  ears 
but  that  of  the  low,  sullen  dash  of  the  waves  along  the 
shores. 

"  After  hating  pursued  our  course  through  the  impene 
trable  darkness  for  many  miles  in  this  manner,  words  of 
sullen  tone  began  to  be  occasionally  interchanged  between 
our  French  and  Indian  captors,  while  the  speed  of  our 
boat  was  suffered  sensibly  to  abate.  And  it  was  not 
long  before  the  murmurs  of  the  savages  who  appeared  to 
claim  some  right  which  their  white  allies  refused  to  grant 
them  assumed  the  tone  of  great  bitterness,  boding  to  my 
ears  some  fatal  purpose  in  the  former,  unless  they  were 
permitted  to  act  as  they  wished.  It  is  true  we  under 
stood  not  a  word  in  their  language ;  but  there  is  some 
thing  in  the  human  voice  which,  to  those  who  have  noted 
it  for  the  purpose,  will  always  betray  the  secret  work 
ings  of  the  soul,  whatever  may  be  the  language  of  the 
tongue,  or  whatever  the  measures  resorted  to  for  conceal 
ment. 

"  The  effect  of  those  tones  on  my  feelings,  and  the 
presentiment  of  danger  that  accompanied  them  in  this 


358  THE  OLD  SOLDIER'S  STORY. 

instance,  I  shall  never  forget,  and  much  less  the  sight  that 
soon  burst  on  our  bewildered  vision.  After  a  profound, 
and  to  me  an  ominous  silence  of  some  minutes  among 
our  captors,  a  low  but  sharp  and  hissing  sound  was 
uttered  by  one  of  the  Indians,  in  the  manner  of  a  signal ; 
when  the  oars  were  all  at  once  relinquished,  and  we 
could  hear  a  part  of  the  crew  hastily  clutching  some  kind 
of  implements,  and  rising  to  their  feet,  and  fixing  their 
position  for  some  sudden  effort.  At  this  critical  instant, 
a  light,  at  first  flashing  faintly,  and  then  quickly  increas 
ing  to  the  brightness  of  the  noonday  sun,  broke  on  our 
astonished  sunset.  A  boat  was  passing  rapidly  by  us, 
which,  to  our  recoiling  vision,  seemed  clothed  with  fire, 
and  filled  with  bright  figures  in  the  human  form,  fixing 
their  burning  and  withering  looks  on  the  quacking  savages, 
and  pointing  on  high  with  uplifted  hands.  Amazed  and 
appalled  as  we  were  at  this  awful  sight,  the  picture  which 
our  boat  presented  was  to  us  prisoners  by  no  means  less 
startling,  telling  us,  as  it  at  once  did.  of  the  destiny  that 
one  moment  before  awaited  us.  The  Indians  stood  over 
us  with  one  hand  grasping  the  scalping-knife,  and  the 
other  drawn  back  with  the  tomahawk  ready  for  the  fatal 
blow,  while  the  fiendish  looks  of  the  assassins,  blending 
with  the  hellish  smile  of  anticipated  revenge,  was  deeply 
depicted  on  their  savage  countenances.  But  a  second 
glance  showed  an  altered  expression.  Those  looks,  which 
so  plainly  told  their  infernal  purposes,  had  given  way  to 
expressions  of  convicted  guilt  and  uncontrolled  terror. 
They  stood  mute  and  paralyzed  with  fear  and  amaze 
ment,  their  eyeballs  starting  from  their  heads,  and  their 
arms  sinking  nervelessly  by  their  sides.  Sudden  as  its 
first  appearance,  the  strange  boat  vanished  from  our  sight, 


359 

and  we  were  again  left  in  total  darkness.  The  savages, 
with  convulsive  shudders,  hastily  resumed  their  seats,  and 
plied  their  oars  with  unnatural  energy.  Not  another 
word  or  sound  was  uttered  by  one  of  the  crew,  as  our 
boat  was  sent  surging  through  the  waters,  till  we  struck 
the  shore,  and  were  hailed  by  a  sentinel  walking  before 
the  British  encampment. 

"  The  prisoners,  with  hearts  overflowing  with  joy  and 
thankfulness  at  our  miraculous  escape  from  death,  were 
then  delivered  over  to  a  guard,  and  lodged  within  the 
lines.  The  next  day  we  were  shipped,  with  other  prison 
ers,  to  St.  John,  where  we  remained  some  months,  when 
it  was  our  good  fortune  to  be  exchanged,  and  conse 
quently  be  permitted  to  return  to  our  respective  homes." 


A  NEW  WAY 
TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT. 


YOUNG  HOBSON,  not  he  of  choice  memory,  but  John 
Hobson,  a  plain,  hardy,  shrewd  Vermont  farmer,  having, 
by  dint  of  delving  and  scrambling  among  the  rugged 
rocks  of  his  native  hills,  gathered  a  respectable  share  of 
the  solid  lucre,  began  to  bethink  him,  with  certain  other 
secret  motives,  of  rising  a  little  faster  in  the  world  by  way 
of  a  spec.  For  this  purpose  he  laid  out  his  little  stock 
of  cash  in  fat  cattle,  and  purchasing  enough  more  on 
credit  to  make  out  a  decentish  kind  of  a  drove,  as  he 
termed  it,  took  up  a  line  of  march  with  his  horned  regi 
ment  through  the  long  woods  to  Quebec.  After  under 
going  his  full  share  of  fatigue  and  suffering  from  swim 
ming  rivers  and  worrying  through  the  mud  of  ten-mile 
swamps,  sustained  only  by  the  meagre  fare  of  French 
taverns,  which  but  for  the  name  of  taverns  had  been 
hovels,  which  a  decent  farmer  in  Vermont  would  have 
been  somewhat  ashamed  to  have  housed  his  hogs  in, 
Hobson  arrived  safe  and  sound  at  the  great  northern 
market.  He  soon  had  a  bid  that  exceeded  his  most  san 
guine  expectations,  and  after  receiving  from  a  bystander 
an  assurance  of  the  bidder's  pecuniary  ability  for  such  a 
31 


362      A  NEW  WAY  TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT. 

purchase,  he  struck  off  the  whole  lot ;  while  the  purchaser, 
directing  him  to  his  lodgings,  told  him  to  call  the  next 
day,  and  he  should  receive  his  money.  Chuckling  with 
the  thought  of  his  great  bargain,  —  and  in  fact  the  price 
was  a  thumping  one,  —  Hobson  returned  to  the  inn  where 
he  had  bespoken  quarters,  and  informed  the  landlord  of 
his  lucky  sale. 

"  To  whom  did  you  sell,  friend  Hobson  ? "  said  the 
landlord. 

"  Derrick,  he  called  himself,  the  good-looking  man  of 
the  market  there  —  " 

"  And  you  didn't  trust  him,  man,  did  you  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  did,  till  to-morrow,  when  he  promises 
the  money  all  on  the  nail ;  and  another  tall  fellow  told 
me  Derrick  was  good  for  thousands." 

"  Bill  Derrick,"  then  said  the  landlord, "  and  Catch-Gull 
Luck,  his  everlasting  surety,  suppose  they  have  made 
another  haul.  It  may  be  as  you  expect,  Mr.  Hobson ;  but 
this  much  I  will  say,  if  you  get  your  money  to-morrow, 
or  all  of  it  ever,  I  will  agree  to  keep  Lent  twelve  months 
at  least." 

"  But  I  shall  though,"  said  Hobson,  "  or  by  the  hocus- 
pocus  of  my  grandmother,  I  will  soon  teach  him  the  true 
cost  of  cheating  a  Yankee." 

The  landlord  shook  his  head,  and  Hobson  retired  for 
the  night  with  his  spirits  wofully  down  towards  zero ; 
and  though  he  still  could  not  persuade  himself  but  that 
the  man  would  be  punctual,  yet  he  acknowledged  to 
himself  that  he  had  been  a  little  too  fast  among  these  city 
folks,  in  taking  every  thing  for  gold  that  shines,  on  their 
own  word  or  the  word  of  an  abetter. 

The  next  day  Hobson  waited  on  Derrick  according  to 


A    NEW    WAY    TO    COLLECT    A    BAD    DEBT.  363 

agreement,  and  was  received  with  all  possible  politeness 
by  the  smooth-tongued  dealer;  Mr.  Hobson  was  very 
welcome,  but  really,  he  had  ten  thousand  pardons  to  beg, 
that  in  the  great  hurry  he  had  entirely  forgotten  to  make 
arrangements  to  meet  his  promise ;  but  the  man  he  was  to 
receive  the  money  from,  he  supposed,  would  require  a  day's 
notice,  or  so ;  but  he  would  see  him  immediately,  and  by 
calling  again  to-morrow,  every  thing  would  be  regulated 
to  Mr.  Hobson's  wishes,  he  presumed.  All  this,  however, 
Hobson  was  not  quite  as  ready  to  take  for  gospel  now  as 
before ;  and  in  order  that  he  might  know  a  little  better 
the  state  in  which  he  stood  with  this  ready  promise,  he 
diligently  betook  himself  to  making  inquiries  into  the 
man's  situation  and  character. 

From  these  he  soon  learnt  that  Derrick  had  disposed 
of  the  cattle  as  soon  as  he  had  purchased,  and  that 
although  in  reality  he  might  be  worth  some  property,  yet 
his  promise  was  considered  good  for  nothing,  for-  he 
always  contrived  to  conceal  his  effects  from  his  creditors, 
and  acting  the  bankrupt  as  occasion  required,  he  always 
put  the  law  at  defiance  ;  in  fine,  that  he  was  an  arrant 
knave,  and  had  before  played  the  same  game  on  several 
unwary  drovers,  who,  in  their  eagerness  to  close  a  bargain 
at  the  great  price  which  he  was  ever  ready  to  offer,  had 
neglected  the  precaution  of  making  inquiries,  and  sold 
their  cattle  to  him  on  a  short  credit,  and,  after  being 
amused  and  dallied  by  his  promises  a  few  weeks,  had 
given  up  their  debts  as  lost,  and  gone  off  in  despair. 
"  So  ho,  John,"  said  our  hero,  soliloquizing  along  as  he 
trudged  back  to  his  lodgings,  with  the  feelings  of  one 
whose  own  folly  had  made  him  the  dupe  of  a  knave,  and 
whose  anger  is  so  nearly  balanced  between  himself,  for 


364      A  NEW  WAY  TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT. 

his  own  stupidity,  and  him  who  had  taken  advantage  of 
it  by  an  act  of  baseness,  that  he  is  perfectly  at  a  loss 
on  which  he  shall  give  vent  to  his  laboring  resentment 
—  "so,  ho!  John,  then  it  seems  you're  bit.  Yes,  I,  John 
Hobson,  who  about  home  was  thought  to  be  up  to  any 
thing  for  a  bargain — who  outwitted  o]d  Clench  fist  the 
shave,  and  Screwfast  the  pettifogger — I,  John  Hobson, 
am  bit,  cursedly  bit,  like  a  great  gull  as  I  am,  by  this 
palavering  quintessence  of  a  pack  of  d — d  rascals!  It's 
a  good  one,  though,  by  the  pipers,  if  it  an't ! " 

The  next  day  Hobson  renewed  his  visit  to  Derrick, 
with  no  better  success  than  before.  The  next,  and  the 
next,  it  was  put  off  with  some  new  and  ingenious  ex 
cuse,  and  his  hopes  excited  with  a  fresh  promise  of 
payment,  till  he  entirely  lost  all  faith  in  the  fellow's 
promises.  What  must  be  done  ?  He  could  never  go 
back  and  face  his  neighbors  in  Vermont,  of  whom  he 
had  purchased  part  of  his  drove  on  credit  till  he  returned, 
without  the  money  to  pay  them ;  besides,  nearly  all  his 
own  property  was  vested  in  the  drove.  "  Yes,"  said  he 
to  himself,  something  must  be  done  to  get  me  out  of 
this  dilemma.  So  now,  John  Hobson,  for  your  wits ; 
and  let  them  be  stretched  to  their  prettiest."  With  this 
view  of  his  case  he  sought  the  landlord. 

"  Is  this  evil  genius  of  mine,  this  Derrick,"  said  he,  "  at 
all  tinctured  with  notions  of  a  religious  or  superstitious 
nature  ?  " 

"  No ;  as  it  regards  a  future  reckoning,  he  neither  fears 
God  nor  devil." 

"  Well,  then,  does  he  wish  to  be  thought  a  man  of 
honor  and  honesty  with  any  of  the  big  fishes  of  your 
city  ?  " 


A  NET   WAY  TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT.      365 

"  No  ;  he  has  nothing  to  hope  from  them,  nor  does  he 
care  what  they  think  of  him." 

"  And  what  say  you  of  his  courage  ?     Can  he  face  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  is  said  to  be  a  great  coward,  and  always  a 
sneak  from  danger." 

"  Ah,  that  is  something!"  said  Hobson.  "  Hold  easy, 
and  say  nothing." 

Our  hero  now  mused  a  while,  and  retired  to  bed  with 
a  brightened  look  and  the  air  of  one  who  has  got  a  new 
maggot  in  his  head,  as  he  probably  would  have  himself 
expressed  it.  The  next  morning  he  was  stirring  as  soon 
as  it  was  light.  Sallying  out  into  the  town,  he  soon 
came  across  a  couple  of  Indians  lazily  lounging  about 
the  street." 

"  Sawnies,  or  whatever  they  call  ye,"  says  he,  "  I  want 
to  hire  you  to  day." 

"  Me  go,"  said  the  spokesman  of  the  two  ;  "  me  go  for 
de  money  or  de  rum." 

"  Well,  then,  do  you  know  Derrick  there  about  the 
market,  with  a  white  coat  and  a  black  cane  ?  " 

"  Me  know  him." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  give  you  a  broad  shiner  apiece  if 
you  will  dog  that  fellow  until  bedtime.  Don't  touch 
him,  or  say  one  word  to  him,  but  always  keep  your  eyes 
on  him ;  if  he  turns  a  corner,  you  turn  too ;  if  he  goes 
into  a  house,  you  watch  till  he  comes  out;  and  if  he 
comes  near  you,  run  till  he  stops,  and  then  turn  and 
watch  again.  Will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  me  do  him,"  was  the  reply. 

Hobson  now  returned  to  his  lodgings,  and  remained 
there  till  night,  when  he  set  out  for  Derrick's,  to  see  if  his 
plan  of  operations  had  produced  any  effect;  and  if  so,  to 
31* 


366 


A    NEW    WAY    TO    COLLECT    A    BAD    DEBT. 


give  it  such  a  turn  as  he  might  think  best  calculated  to 
accomplish  his  purpose. 

Derrick  was  at  home,  and  obviously  in  no  very  cheerful 
mood.  After  framing  his  usual  excuses  for  not  having 
the  money  ready,  he  soon  fell  into  a  sort  of  reverie. 
Hobson  now  began  to  have  some  hopes  that  his  scheme 
would  succeed  ;  and  while  he  was  endeavoring  by  vari 
ous  questions  to  draw  out  something  which  would  open 
a  way  for  him  to  act  his  own  part  in  the  plan,  Derrick 
observed, — 

"  I  have  noticed  a  rather  mysterious  circumstance  to 
day,  Mr.  Hobson ;  a  thing  I  can't  exactly  account  for." 

"  What  may  that  be,"  said  Hobson,  "  if  I  may  be  so 
bold  with  your  honor  ?  " 

"  Why,  there  have  been  a  couple  of  Indians  dogging 
and  spying  me  out  in  every  spot  and  place  I  have 
been  in  since  morning.  I  tried  to  come  up  with  them 
once  or  twice,  and  they  vanished  like  apparitions ;  but 
as  soon  as  I  turned,  I  could  see  them  peeping  out  after 
me  from  some  other  place.  They  kept  at  a  distance,  to 
be  sure  ;  but  they  looked  d — d  evil,  and  I  don't  know 
exactly  what  it  all  means." 

"  It  is  quite  singular,"  said  Hobson ;  "  but  what  kind 
of  looking  fellows  were  they?" 

Derrick  described  them. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  Hobson,  "  they  must  be  the  very 
fellows  that  helped  me  with  my  cattle  through  the  long 
woods.  I  am  rather  sorry  that  I  employed  them,  for  I 
begin  to  suspect  they  are  desperate  and  bloody-minded 
fellows ;  though  they  stuck  to  me  as  close  as  brothers  on 
the  way,  and  I  should  have  paid  them,  but  I  told  them  I 
could  not  until  you  paid  me  for  the  cattle ;  then  I  mean 


A  NEW  WAY  TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT.      367 

to  pay  them  well,  and  get  rid  of  them,  for  they  begin  to 
look  rather  askew  at  me,  and  I  confess,  between  you  and 
I,  that  I  feel  rather  shy  of  the  imps  myself.  But  I  believe 
I  must  be  jogging;  you  say  I  may  call  to-morrow?" 

"  Yes  —  yes,  certainly,"  said  Derrick. 

Hobson  retired,  and  signing  to  the  Indians,  who  were 
lurking  round  the  house,  to  follow  him,  he  took  them 
aside. 

"  Well,  my  lads,  you  have  done  well  —  here  are  your 
wheels  ;  go  and  drink,  then  come  back  to  your  business. 
Be  seen  once  or  twice  more  to-night,  and  be  at  your  post 
early  to-rnorrow  morning,  and  keep  up  the  same  game 
till  to-morrow  night.  Here  are  another  pair  of  shiners 
for  you  —  will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes;  me  do  him,"  was  again  the  laconic  answer. 

The  next  day  Hobson  again  waited  on  Derrick,  and 
found  him  looking  extremely  ill  and  haggard,  with  the 
appearance  of  one  who  had  been  sadly  disturbed  of  his 
rest. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Hobson,"  said  he ;  "I  am 
very  happy  at  length  to  be  able  to  pay  you  ;  but  you 
must  be  sensible,  Mr.  Hobson,  that  the  sum  I  promised 
you  for  your  cattle  was  a  hundred  dollars  over  the  mar 
ket  price.  I  made  a  losing  go  of  it ;  and  I  think  that 
you  will  discount  the  hundred  dollars,  at  least." 

"  I  fear  that  cannot  be,"  said  Hobson ;  "  for  I  have 
already  made  a  contract  to  pay  away  all  this  money 
before  I  leave  the  city,  except  enough  to  pay  my  expenses 
home  and  pay  off  the  bloody  Indians ;  perhaps  I  could 
get  away,  however,  by  dodging  the  knaves  —  could  I 
not?" 

"  O,  no,"  said  Derrick  eagerly.   "  No,  for  Heaven's  sake, 


368      A  NEW  WAY  TO  COLLECT  A  BAD  DEBT. 

no ;  pay  them  well.  Why,  last  night,  they  waylaid  my 
house,  and  have  been  seen  several  times  this  morning, 
though  I  have  been  so  unwell  that  I  have  not  been  out 
to-day ;  not  that  I  fear  them,  Mr.  Hobson,  but  on  your 
own  account  pay  them  off  to  the  last  farthing,  for  other 
wise,  depend  on  it,  they  will  do  you  some  cursed  mis 
chief.  I  was  only  in  jest  about  the  discount." 

With  this  Derrick  brought  out  a  bag  of  gold,  and, 
without  further  ceremony,  counted  out  the  full  sum  to 
the  inwardly-exulting  Hobson,  who,  pocketing  the  guineas 
with  great  composure,  bid  Derrick  good  morning,  and 
marched  off  in  triumph  to  his  lodgings,  and,  recounting 
his  good  fortune  to  his  admiring  landlord,  took  a  hearty 
breakfast,  and  departed,  having  good-naturedly  absolved 
the  landlord  from  his  promise  of  perpetual  secret,  and 
leaving  the  Indians  to  earn  their  day's  wages  to  the  sad 
discomfiture  of  the  nerves  of  poor  Derrick.  In  two  hours 
Hobson  had  crossed  the  great  river  on  his  way  home 
ward,  and  pronouncing  his  parting  blessing  on  the  walled 
city,  "  And  you  didn't  nab  John  Hobson,  after  all,"  said 
he,  turning  his  head  and  spurring  his  pony  into  a  round 
trot  up  the  great  road  towards  the  States;  "you  didn't 
nab  him  so  easily,  ye  mongrel,  scurvy,  rascallious  crew  of 
beef-eating  John  Bulls,  and  parley  vou  francez  frigazee, 
frog-eating  Frenchmen.  So  leaving  this  specimen  of 
Vermont  fashions,  in  turning  the  tables  on  a  rascal  for 
your  benefit,  good-by,  says  I,  and  be  hanged  to  you ! " 


It  was  about  a  month  after  the  occurrences  we  have 
described,  that  a  gay  wedding  party  was  assembled  at 


A    NEW    WAY    TO    COLLECT    A    BAD    DEBT.  369 

the  house  of  Esquire ,  at  the  Four  Corners,  in  Slab 

City.  The  balance  that  had  been,  for  more  than  a  year, 
doubtfully  trembling  at  equipoise  between  our  young 
farmer  and  a  more  wealthy  but  a  less-loved  suitor  of  the 
squire's  fair  daughter,  had  at  length  turned  in  favor  of 
our  hero,  who  always  attributed  his  subsequent  happi 
ness  to  his  lucky  speculation  at  the  walled  city. 


AN 


INDIAN'S  REVENGE. 


SOME  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago,  circumstances 
made  me,  for  a  few  days,  an  inmate  of  a  family  sit 
uated  in  the  heart  of  the  Green  Mountains.  It  was 
the  family  of  a  hardy  young  farmer,  who,  with  a  wife, 
young,  active,  and  ambitious  as  himself,  had,  a  few 
years  before,  made  his  pitch  on  a  lot  of  wild  land,  and 
was  now,  by  the  steady  efforts  of  his  industry,  rapidly 
transforming  the  patch  of  brown  wilderness,  which  he 
had  selected  as  his  home,  into  a  cultivated  field.  It  was 
now  the  night  of  a  beautiful  summer's  day,  and  the  sun 
was  slowly  sinking  behind  the  woody  hills  which,  deeply 
environing  the  log-house  and  the  little  opening  around 
it,  stood  clothed  in  all  the  green  majesty  of  nature,  send 
ing  forth  on  the  fine  atmosphere,  cooled  and  moistened 
by  the  evaporating  spray  of  a  thousand  falling  rills,  their 
sweet  and  healing  breath,  impregnated  with  all  the 
blooming  fragrance  of  the  blooming  wilderness.  The 
farmer  had  returned  from  his  labor  in  the  field,  and 
was  silently  pacing  the  room  with  an  air  of  dejection 
and  pensiveness.  He  gave  no  reason  for  this  change  in 
his  deportment,  and  remained  silent  until  he  was  kindly 
interrogated  by  his  wife. 


372 

"  I  know  not  how  it  is,  Rebecca,  but  I  have  felt  this 
day  a  sensation  of  uncommon  uneasiness,  rather  of  mind 
than  of  body,  I  believe  —  the  same  unaccountable  feeling 
that  I  have  always  experienced  when  some  hidden  dan 
ger  was  lurking  about  me." 

"  I  think  it  all  your  own  fancyings,"  replied  she,  with 
some  apparent  concern.  "  My  husband,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  me  with  the  air  of  one  who  seems  to  consider 
some  explanation  called  for  by  the  circumstances  —  "  my 
husband  is  a  little  subject,  at  times,  to  dark  and  moody 
turns,  and  often  starts  at  imaginary  dangers,  while  real 
ones  appear  to  be  the  least  of  his  concern." 

While  she  was  speaking,  the  husband  had  approached 
the  side  of  the  house,  and  was  intently  looking  through 
a  large  crevice  between  the  logs,  from  which  the  moss  — 
a  substance  in  common  use  to  stop  the  crevices  of  log 
buildings  —  had  been  partly  removed.  In  a  moment  he 
started  back,  with  a  look  of  dismay,  seized  his  rifle  from 
the  wooden  hooks  by  which  it  was  suspended  from  a 
beam  above  him,  and  instantly  cocked  it. 

"  Rebecca,"  said  he,  in  a  hurried  tone,  "  come  here." 

She  tremblingly  obeyed,  and  looked  through  the  crev 
ice  in  the  direction  of  his  quivering  finger.  She  instantly 
recoiled  from  the  view.  Her  husband  was  now  in  the 
attitude  of  raising  the  muzzle  of  the  piece  to  the  crevice. 
Seizing  it  with  both  hands,  "  You  cannot  be  so  thought-.. 
less,"  said  she,  "  as  to  fire  upon  them.  O,  fly  —  fly  out 
of  the  other  window,  and  you  can  reach  the  woods 


unseen ! ' 


The  husband,  pausing  a  moment,  and  giving  a  quick 
glance  in  every  direction  around  him,  replied,  "  You  are 
right;"  while  she,  as  if  reading  at  a  look  his  wishes, 


373 

reached  his  powder  horn  and  ball  pouch,  and  was  hur 
rying  him  to  the  window.  As  he  passed  me,  he  said, — 

"  Stay  here  and  protect  my  family  till  I  return,  and  all 
but  life  shall  reward  you." 

He  then  threw  himself  out  of  the  window,  and  bowing 
almost  to  the  ground,  and  sometimes  creeping,  he  pur 
sued  his  way  hastily  through  the  weeds  and  bushes  that 
bordered  a  small  rivulet,  till  he  reached  the  woods  and 
disappeared. 

"  There,"  said  she,  drawing  her  suspended  breath, 
"thank  Heaven,  he  is  safe!" 

Amazed  at  what  I  had  witnessed,  I  hastily  asked  for 
an  explanation.  Convulsively  seizing  my  arm,  she  con 
ducted  me  to  the  crevice. 

"  Look  beneath  yonder  clump  of  trees,"  said  she. 

I  did  so,  and,  to  my  surprise,  I  beheld  three  Indians, 
apparently  holding  a  consultation  and  watching  the 
house.  They  were  armed  with  rifles,  tomahawks,  cords, 
and  such  other  implements  as  their  warriors  are  known 
to  carry  when  on  expeditions  of  massacre  or  capture. 

"  There,  sir,  is  the  cause  of  our  fears.  We  have  before 
been  alarmed  in  this  manner ;  but  my  husband  then,  as 
he  has  now,  providentially  escaped  them.  Had  he  been 
seen  here,  it  would,  probably,  have  been  their  endeavor 
to  have  taken  him  to-night,  and  carried  him  off  to  their 
tribe,  to  murder  him  after  their  own  fashion ;  or,  had  they 
failed  in  this,  they  would  have  ambushed  and  shot  him. 
But  now  they  have  not  seen  him,  they  will  watch  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  depart  as  noiselessly  as  they  came." 

I  expressed  some  doubts  of  their  hostile  intentions,  and 
suggested  the  improbability  that  they  would  here  dare  to 
seek  the  life  of  an  individual,  since  the  country  had  be- 
32 


374 


come  so  far  settled,  that,  on  the  least  alarm,  a  force 
could  soon  be  rallied  sufficient  to  exterminate  the  whole 
tribe. 

"  My  husband,"  said  she,  "  was  formerly  a  hunter  on 
the  lakes,  and  he  then,  innocently,  was  the  cause  of  an 
accident  which  terminated  fatally  to  an  Indian,  and 
which,  it  seems,  they  think  he  can  only  atone  for  with 
his  life.  Though  they  pass  peaceably. through  the  coun 
try,  and  as  yet  have  committed  no  violence,  still  my 
husband  too  \vell  knows  their  deadly  purpose.  How 
they  have  discovered  his  present  residence  is  still  un 
known  to  him.  But  I  choose  that  he  should  tell  his  own 
story.  Stay  with  us  over  to-morrow ;  they  will  depart, 
and  he  will  return." 

I  consented.  The  Indians,  after  reconnoitring  the 
house  from  different  positions,  disappeared  for  the  night. 
They  repeated  the  same  several  times  the  next  day,  when, 
towards  night,  they  disappeared,  and  were  soon  heard  of 
several  miles  off,  making  their  way  northward.  The 
farmer  returned  the  next  day,  when  he  related  the  fol 
lowing  adventure  of  his  early  days :  — 

"  Several  years  ago,  I  made  an  excursion  to  Lake 
Memphremagog  for  the  purpose  of  spending  the  fall  in 
hunting  and  catching  furs  around  the  shores  of  that  lake, 
which  is  now  associated  with  recollections  which  I  fear 
will  always  be  fatal  to  my  happiness.  I  had  been  there 
several  weeks,  when  one  day.  being  out  in  quest  of  a 
deer  which  my  dog  had  started,  I  heard  the  report  of  a 
rifle  at  some  distance,  and  pursuing  my  way  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  sound,  I  soon  came  across  an  Indian  who  lay 
wounded  and  bleeding  on  the  ground.  From  appear 
ances,  as  well  as  his  signs,  I  learnt  that,  being  in  the 


AN  INDIAN'S  REVENGE.  375 

range  of  the  game  and  his  companions,  he  had  been 
wounded  by  the  ball  from  one  of  their  rifles,  and  that 
they,  unconscious  of  what  they  had  done,  had  pursued 
the  chase,  and  left  him  in  this  condition,  fainting  from 
the  loss  of  blood.  I  stanched  his  wound  the  best  way 
I  could,  revived  and  conveyed  him  to  my  tent.  The 
wound  was  not  dangerous,  and,  in  a  few  days,  during 
which  I  paid  all  the  attention  in  my  power,  he  was  ena 
bled  to  depart  to  his  tribe,  who  were  encamped  round 
the  other  end  of  the  lake.  After  this,  he  frequently  vis 
ited  my  tent,  bringing  me  game  and  taking  various  ways 
to  express  his  gratitude,  spending  considerable  time  with 
me,  and  often  joining  me  in  hunting  excursions.  I  soon 
became  much  attached  to  him,  and  repaid  his  kindness 
with  many  little  presents  of  various  kinds  of  trinkets 
which  I  had  brought  with  me.  This  probably  awakened 
the  jealousy  of  his  companions,  as  I  afterwards  noticed 
an  uncommon  coolness  and  reserve  in  their  manner  to 
wards  me  when  I  met  them.  While  matters  continued 
thus,  one  night,  as  I  lay  in  my  tent,  I  was  awakened 
by  a  furious  barking  of  my  dog.  The  terrified  animal, 
by  his  unnatural  cries,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  ven 
tured  forth  and  frequently  retreated  back  into  the  door  of 
my  tent,  told  me. that  no  common  animal  was  near  me. 
I  arose,  renewed  the  priming  of  my  gun,  and  looked  out 
in  the  direction  where  the  attention  of  the  dog  was  con 
fined.  At  length  my  sight  was  caught  by  two  hideously 
glaring  eyeballs  that  were  beaming  out  from  the  boughs 
of  a  thick  pine  that  stood  but  eight  or  ten  rods  from  my 
tent.  I  at  once  knew  it  to  be  an  enormous  catamount. 
And  judging,  from  the  motions  of  the  animal,  that  he 
was  about  to  leap  towards  me,  I  resolved  to  hazard  a 


376  AN  INDIAN'S  REVENGE. 

shot,  although  sensible  of  the  uncertainty  of  my  aim  in 
the  dark.  I  accordingly  levelled  my  piece,  and  carefully 
directing  my  aim  between  the  two  bright  orbs  that  were 
glowing  down  upon  me  with  the  intenseness  of  a  furnace, 
I  fired,  and  the  animal,  with  a  tremendous  leap -and  a 
scream  that  echoed  for  miles  among  the  mountains  of 
the  lake,  fell  to  the  ground  about  half  way  from  the  tree 
to  where  I  stood.  My  dog  still  refusing  to  approach  the 
spot,  and  knowing  the  animal  to  be  dangerous,  even 
with  the  last  gasp  of  life,  I  hastily  reloaded  for  another 
fire.  At  this  moment  I  heard  a  rustling  among  the 
bushes,  and  discerning  some  dark  object  to  move  in  the 
direction  of  the  animal,  and  supposing  he  was  preparing 
for  another  leap,  I  fired,  something  fell  to  the  ground, 
and  my  blood  curdled  as  I  heard  the  sounds  of  the  hu 
man  voice  in  the  hollow  groan  that  accompanied  the 
fall.  I  hastened  to  the  spot ;  the  lifeless  body  of  the 
catamount  lay  upon  the  ground ;  and  a  little  farther,  I 
beheld  a  human  being  writhing  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
I  applied  a  torchlight  to  his  face,  and,  to  my  unutterable 
grief,  discovered  him  to  be  my  Indian  friend.  Having 
been  belated  on  an  excursion,  he  was  probably  approach- 
tring  the  tent  for  the  night  at  the  time  I  was  reconnoi 
tring  the  catamount ;  and  having  seen  him  fall,  he  was 
cautiously  approaching  the  animal  when  arrested  by  my 
fatal  shot,  which  it  was  my  luckless  destiny  to  give  him. 
Though  unable  to  speak,  a  fierce  and  vengeful  expres 
sion  was  beaming  in  his  eyes,  as  he  beheld  me.  In  a 
moment,  however,  as  if  satisfied  of  the  innocence  of  my 
motives,  on  witnessing  the  agony  of  my  feelings,  his 
countenance  assumed  a  mild  and  benignant  expression. 
He  stretched  out  his  hand  to  receive  mine ;  and  with  this 


377 


last  convulsive  effort  of  appeased  and  friendly  feeling,  he 
immediately  expired.  I  soon  began  to  feel  sensible  of 
the  peculiar  difficulties  and  dangers  of  my  situation.  If 
T  should  call  in  the  Indians,  I  doubted  greatly  whether  I 
should  be  able  to  prevent  them  from  suspecting  me  of 
intentionally  killing  their  companion ;  and  such  sus 
picions,  I  feared,  would  be  fostered  by  some  of  the  tribe 
in  their  present  feelings  towards  me.  And  as  suspicion, 
in  the  creed  of  the  Indian,  is  but  little  better  than  convic 
tion,  and  fearful  of  the  fiery  tortures  that  must  follow 
such  a  conclusion  in  their  minds,  I  concluded,  perhaps 
unwisely,  to  dispose  of  the  body  secretly.  With  this  de 
termination,  I  took  the  rifle  and  several  steel  traps  which 
the  deceased  had  with  him,  and  lashing  them  to  the  body, 
conveyed  it  to  my  canoe,  and  rowed  to  the  deepest  part 
of  the  lake.  I  shall  never  forget  the  painful  and  gloomy 
feeling  that  attended  the  performances  of  this  sad  and 
fearful  office.  Though  conscious  of  my  innocence,  and 
of  being  only  dictated  by  prudence  in  thus  disposing  of 
him  to  whom  I  could  have  wished  an  honorable  inter 
ment,  still  a  kind  of  guilty  feeling  and  self-condemnation 
weighed  deeply  on  my  mind.  Even  the  murmuring 
winds  that  were  sighing  mournfully  through  the  tall  pines 
that  stood  towering  along  the  shores  of  the  lake,  seemed 
to  upbraid  me  ;  and  the  low  wailings  of  the  waves,  dash 
ing  sullenly  on  the  distant  beach,  seemed  to  fall  on  my 
ear  in  the  sounds  of  reproach  for  the  deed  I  was  com 
mitting  ;  dark  presentiments  of  approaching  danger  op 
pressed  and  sunk  gloomily  on  my  spirits.  On  arriving 
into  the  deep  waters  of  the  lake,  I  lifted  the  body  over 
the  side  of  the  canoe  into  the  water,  and  it  immediately 
sunk,  by  the  weight  of  iron  by  which  it  was  encumbered, 
32* 


378  AN  INDIAN'S  REVENGE. 

and  disappeared  from  my  sight.  I  then  turned  and 
rowed  back  hastily  to  the  shore.  As  I  was  about  to  step 
out  of  my  canoe,  I  heard  the  plash  of  an  oar  at  a  dis 
tance  down  the  lake.  This  circumstance,  though  I  could 
discern  nothing,  much  alarmed  me,  as  I  supposed  the  In 
dians  were  abroad  on  the  lake,  and  had  probably  observed 
my  movement  —  in  which  case  I  feared  that  a  discovery 
was  inevitable ;  for  though  they  must  be  perfectly  igno 
rant  of  my  business  at  the  time,  yet  on  missing  their 
companion,  they  would  be  sure  to  revolve  this  circum 
stance  in  their  minds,  in  every  bearing,  and  perhaps,  with 
some  ingenious  conclusion,  connect  it  with  his  fate ;  for 
there  are  no  people  who  can  vie  with  the  natives  of  our 
forests  in  the  scrutinizing  closeness  of  their  observations, 
the  minuteness  and  accuracy  of  comparing  circumstances, 
and  the  faculty  of  drawing  conclusions  from  presumptive 
evidence.  I  returned  to  my  tent  and  lay  down  —  but 
not  to  sleep.  Alone,  in  a  dark  wilderness,  many  miles 
from  the  dwelling  of  a  civilized  being,  arid  deprived  of 
my  only  friend  by  the  very  blow  that  had  brought  me 
into  the  situation  where  he  was  the  most  needed  —  the 
gloomy  stillness  of  the  house,  and  the  dark  forebodings 
of  the  future,  rushed  on  my  mind,  and  conspired  to  fill 
my  bosom  with  feelings  of  grief,  anxiety,  and  utter 
loneliness. 

"  The  next  day  I  went  out,  and  was  absent  nearly  all 
day.  As  I  was  returning,  when  I  came  in  sight  of  my 
tent,  I  saw  two  Indians  intently  examining  the  spot 
where  the  deceased  had  fallen.  They  then  took  the  trail 
I  had  made  in  carrying  the  body  to  the  lake,  carefully 
noticing  each  leaf  on  the  way  till  they  reached  the  canoe, 
and,  after  looking  at  it  minutely  a  while,  they  raised  a 


AN  INDIAN'S  REVENGE.  379 

kind  of  wailing  whoop,  and  departed  towards  their  en 
campment.  Judging  from  their  appearance  that  they 
had  formed  conclusions  unfavorable  to  me,  I  packed  up 
my  most  valuable  furs  and  other  articles,  and  building  a 
good  fire  at  the  door  of  the  tent,  I  took  a  bear  skin  and 
lay  down  in  a  thicket  at  a  distance,  from  which  I  could 
see  directly  into  the  tent.  During  the  evening,  several 
Indians  appeared  around  the  tent,  and  finally  entered  it. 
Finding  my  movables  gone,  they  immediately  raised 
the  war  whoop,  and  scattered  in  every  direction.  One 
came  near  me,  pursuing  his  way  down  the  lake.  I  re 
mained  a  while,  then  rose,  and,  taking  my  pack,  directed 
my  course  to  the  south  end  of  the  lake,  from  whence  I 
intended  to  steer  to  the  nearest  white  settlement.  I 
reached  the  place  before  day  unmoksted,  and  sought  a 
concealment  in  an  old  tree  top  on  the  ground,  where  I 
lay  still  till  nearly  dark  the  next  day.  I  then  rose,  and 
was  making  my  way  homeward,  when  two  Indians  rose 
from  a  thicket,  and  rushed  upon  me.  I  ran  for  the  shore 
of  the  lake,  which  I  had  not  yet  left,  and  reached  it  as 
the  Indians  were  within  two  rods  of  me.  It  was  a  preci 
pice  of  rocks  hanging  perpendicularly  fifty  feet  above  the 
waters.  I  must  be  taken  or  leap  the  rock.  I  paused  an 
instant,  plunged  headlong,  and  was  quickly  buried  in  the 
deep  waters  beneath.  When  I  arose,  I  saw  my  faithful 
dog,  who  had  followed  the  desperate  fortunes  of  his  mas 
ter,  floating  apparently  lifeless  on  the  surface,  having  so 
flatly  struck  the  water  in  his  fall  that  the  shock  had  de 
prived  him  of  breath  and  the  power  of  motion.  With  as 
little  of  my  head  above  water  as  possible,  I  swam  under 
the  shelving  rocks,  so  as  to  get  out  of  the  view  of  the 
Indians.  Several  balls  were  in  quick  succession  sent  into 


380 

the  body  of  the  unconscious  dog,  it  being  now  so  dark 
the  Indians  could  not  distinguish  it  from  me.  Supposing 
they  had  done  their  bloody  work,  they  ran  up  the  lake, 
where  they  could  get  down  to  the  water,  to  swim  in  after 
what  they  mistook  to  be  my  body.  While  doing  this  I 
had  swam  in  an  opposite  direction,  till,  unseen,  having 
effected  a  landing,  I  took  my  course  with  rapid  strides 
towards  the  settlements,  and  had  proceeded  some  dis 
tance  before  I  heard  the  whoop  which  told  the  disap 
pointment  of  the  Indians.  I,  however,  travelled  all  night 
unmolested,  and  the  next  day  at  noon  was  safely  lodged 
in  the  house  of  an  old  acquaintance." 

After  the  narrator  had  concluded  his  story,  I  partook  of 
some  refreshment,  and  soon  took  my  leave  of  the  family. 
Several  years  after,  I  was  journeying  through  the  town, 
and  passed  by  the  same  dwelling.  It  was  desolate  and 
tenantless,  and  the  weeds  and  bushes  had  grown  up 
where  I  had  before  seen  fields  of  waving  grain.  On 
inquiry,  I  learnt  that  the  former  occupant,  having  again 
been  haunted  by  the  Indians,  and  perhaps  still  more  by 
his  own  imagination,  had  removed  into  the  western 
country,  without  informing  even  his  nearest  neighbors 
of  his  intended  residence. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS 

PUBLISHED   BY 

BENJAMIN  B.  MUSSEY  AND  COMPANY, 

NO,  29,  COBNHILL,  AND  36,  SEATTLE  STREET,  BOSTON. 


MUSIC    BOOKS. 


THE  MODEM  HARP, 

Or,  BOSTON  SACRED  MELODIST.  — A  Collection  of 
Church  Music,  comprising,  in  addition  to  many  of  the  most  Popular 
Tunes  in  common  use,  a  great  variety  of  new  and  original  Tunes, 
Sentences,  Chants,  Motets,  and  Anthems,  adapted  to  Social  and 
Religious  Worship,  Societies,  Singing  Schools,  &c.  By  EDWARD 
L.  WHITE  and  JOHN  E.  GOULD. 

This  Book,  in  the  short  space  of  twelve  months,  has  passed  through 
no  less  than  sixteen  editions,  and  is  now  used  in  all  the  best  Choirs  and 
Societies  in  New  England,  and  is  universally  considered  as  one  of  the 
best  books  of  Church  Music  now  in  use. 

<;  So  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  examine  this  work,  we  should  judge 
it  to  be  superior  to  any  modern  work  that  we  have  seen."  —  Skowhegan 
Democrat. 

"  In  bringing  this  work  before  the  public,  no  time  or  pains  have  been 
spared  to  render  it  not  only  a  popular,  but  a  useful  Collection.  More 
than  the  usual  number  of  new  Tunes  occupy  a  space  in  it,  and  most  of 
this  new  Music  is  of  a  high  character,  and  possesses  the  true  attributes 
of  Church  Music.  There  is  also  to  be  found  an  unusual  number  of 
Sentences,  Select  Pieces,  Chants,  &c.,  suitable  for  the  opening  and  closing 
of  divine  worship,  among  which  the  entire  service  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church  is  given  in  the  order  of  performance. 

"  The  whole  Collection  is  judiciously  arranged,  and  will  undoubtedly 
ake  a  rank  second  to  none  of  the  numerous  publications  of  Church 
Alusic  now  in  use.'  —  Atlas. 


"  This  Book  is  composed  mostlv  of  Music  new  to  the  American  public, 
R.id  embraces  every  variety  of  metre  now  in  use,  with  numerous  Sen 
tences,  Chants,  Motets,  and  Anthems,  suited  to  particular  occasions." - 
KaLem  Observer 

[Extract  of  a  Ltfier  from  llev.  M.  K.  Cross,  cf  Palmer,  Mass.'] 
"  I  am  free  to  acknowledge  that  I  have  been  very  highly  gratified  with 
tr;3  musical  taste  and  talent  exhibited  by  the  authors.  It  seems  ro  me 
that  a  larger  proportion  than  is  usual  in  books  of  this  kind,  will  be  found 
suitable  and  edifying  for  common  choirs  and  congregations.  The  selec 
tion  of  words,  set  to  the  Music,  is  very  chaste,  and  well  adapted  to  devo 
tional  purposes ;  which  gives  an  additional  interest  to  the  work.  I  am 
happj  to  learn  that  it  is  soon  to  be  introduced  in  our  own  congregation." 

M.  K.  CEOSS 


THE  OPERA  CHORUS  BOOK, 

Consisting  of  Trios,  Quartets,  Quintets,  Solos,  and  Choruses, 
selected  and  arranged  from  the  most  popular  Operas  of  Von  Weber, 
liossini,  Meyerbeer,  Bellini,  Benedict,  Donizetti,  Mercadante, 
Auber,  Balfe,  Verdi,  and  Bishop.  By  EDWARD  L.  WHITE  and 
JOHN  E.  GOULD. 

[  We  select  the  following  from  numerous  Notices  of  this  Work  ' 

"SALEM,  NOVEMBER  IST,  1847. 

"MR.  B.  B.  MUSSET  —  DEAR  SIR  —  I  have  examined  the  new  publica 
tion  which  has  lately  come  from  your  press,  called  the  '  OPERA  CHORUS 
BOOK,'  and  do  not  hesitate  to  commend  its  design  and  execution.  Tho 
Selections  are  well  made  and  well  arranged,  and  are,  almost  all  of  them, 
gems  of  high  musical  value.  The  field  from  which  they  were  gathered, 
has  not,  until  now,  been  explored.  It  is  rich  in  fruits,  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped,  that  such  success  may  attend  this  first  gathering,  as  to  induce  the 
reapers  again  to  try  the  sickle." 

Your  friend  and  servant,        R  R    OLIVER. 

"  On  every  page  there  is  evidence  of  much  patience,  care,  and  industry, 
on  the  part  of  the  Editors,  and  we  question  if  among  all  the  volumes 
of  Secular  Music  that  have  been  published  in  this  country,  there  will  be 
found  one  that  has  more  real  claims  to  the  admiration  of  the  musical 
public  than  this.  The  Work  abounds  in  those  delicious  gems  of  the 
Opera,  any  one  of  which  is  beautiful  enough  to  tempt  pur  readers  to 
the  purchase  of  the  whole  collection."  —  Boston  Daily  Whig. 

[From  Thomas  Power,  Esq.] 

"  BOSTON,  DEC.  29TH,  1847. 

"GEVTLEMEX,  —  Having  examined,  with  some  care,  the  '  OFER.* 
CHORUS  BOOK,'  of  which  you  are  the  publishers,  I  cheerfully  give  you 
my  opinion  of  its  particular  merits.  As  the  study  and  practice  of 


Secular  Part  Music  has  been  pursued  with  increased  zeal  and  success, 
within  a  few  years,  it  has  been  a  leading  object  to  find  accessible  advan- 
i,«ed  works  of  *a  good  character.  The  practice  of  tho  old  standard  Glees, 
however  excellent,  has  lost  its  novelty,  and  some  of  its  interest.  A 
higher  grade  of  compositions  has  been  required  ;  and  the  graceful  n:id 
charming  choruses  of  the  modern  Opera  have  given  an  increasing  desire 
for  that  class  of  compositions. 

"  In  selecting  from  the  standard  works  of  the  day,  a  knowledge  of 
the  requirements  of  performers,  and  a  good  judgment  as  to  what  shall 
meet  these  requirements,  were  imperative.  The  collection  of  the  OPLKA. 
CHORUS  BOOK  has  been  made  with  good  discretion,  combining  what  is 
in  advance  of  the  current  standard,  and,  at  the  same  time,  affording  to 
social  parties,  for  which  it  seems  to  be  particularly  prepared,  the  ea-jy 
means  of  studying  gems  of  some  of  the  best  masters. 

"  Whatever  motive  of  ambition  or  interest  suggested  the  idea  cf  this 
Collection,  the  Book  is  exactly  what  is  wanted  at  this  time;  and  it  will 
be  taken  as  a  favor  to  the  musical  public,  inasmuch  as  it  cannot  fail  to 
be  a  great  acquisition  for  practice,  and  a  means  of  creating  a  better 
taste,  A  book  got  at  with  such  good  properties,  cannot  fail  to  be  well 
received."  Respectfully  yours, 

THOMAS  POWER. 


THE  TYROLIEN  LYRE, 

A  Glee  Book,  consisting  of  easy  pieces,  arranged  mostly  fci 
Soprano  Alto,  Tenor,  and  Bass  Yoices,  with  and  without  Piano 
Forte  Accompaniments,  comprising  a  complete  collection  of  Solos, 
Duets,  Trios,  Quartets,  Quintets,  Choruses,  &c.,  for  the  use  of 
Societies,  Schools,  Clubs,  Choirs,  and  the  Social  Circle.  By 
EDWARD  L.  WHITE  and  JOHN  E.  GOULD. 

The  sale  which  this  Work  has  already  met,  is  evidence  that  its  merits 
are  well  known  to  the  public;  but  we  extract  the  following  from  "  Tht 
World  of  Music :" —  'It  contains  many  subjects  from  different  popular 
Operas,  very  beautifully  elaborated,  among  which  we  recognize  many 
gems  of  melody  from  'Rossini,  Auber,  Bellini,  Balfe,  &c.  Also  somw 
sterling  Glee  compositions  from  Bishop,  Spofibrth,  Danby,  &c.,  and  a 
larire  number  of  those  Tyrolien  melodies  which  Malibraii  and  the  'Raim-r 
Family '  used  to  electrify  their  hearers.  The  Work  will  not  only  be  a 
pleasant  social  companion,  but  will  be  found  extremely  useful  for  Choirs, 
Schools,  &c." 

"It  is  a  large  and  well  executed  volume  of  two  hundred  and  thirty 
pages,  containing  easy  pieces,  arranged  mostly  for  Soprano,  Alto,  Tenor, 
and  Bass  Voices,  with  and  without  Piano-Forte  Accompaniment*, 
comprising  a  complete  Collection  of  Solos,  Duets,  Trios,  Quartets. 
Quintets,  Choruses,  £c.  The  names  of  EDWAKD  L.  WHITK  and  JOHN 
E.  GOULD,  by  whom  the  Music  is  composed,  selected,  and  arranged, 
is  a  sufficient  recommendation  of  its  excellence."  —  Olive  ttranch. 


THE  BOSTON  MELODEON,  VOL.  I. 

A  Collection  of  Secular  Melodies,  consisting  of  Songs,  Glees, 
Rounds,  Catches,  &c.,  including  many  of  the  most  popular  Pieces 
of  the  day ;  arranged  and  harmonized  for  Four  Voices.  By  ED 
WARD  L.  WHITE. 


THE  BOSTON  MELODEON,  VOL.  II. 

A  Collection  of  Secular  Melodies,  consisting  of  Songs,  Glees, 
Rounds,  Catches,  &c.,  including  many  of  the  most  popular  pieces 
of  the  day,  arranged  and  harmonized  for  four  voices,  vol.  2,  by  E 
L.  WHITE. 

The  above  Books  have  been  before  the  public  some  two  years,  during 
which  time,  more  than  23,000  of  them  have  been  sold,  and  their  repu 
tation  is  too  well  known  to  require  any  commendation. 


THE  WREATH  OF  SCHOOL  SONGS, 

Consisting  of  Songs,  Hymns,  and  Chants,  with  appropriate  Music, 
designed  for  the  use  of  Common  Schools,  Seminaries,  &c.  To  which 
ire  added  the  Elements  of  Vocal  Music,  arranged  according  to 
the  Pestalozzian  System  of  Instruction;  with  numerous  Exercises, 
intended  to  supersede  (in  part)  the  necessity  of  the  Black-board. 
By  EDWARD  L.  WHITE  and  JOHN  E.  GOULD. 

"This  Work  is  just  the  thing  for  Schools,  Juvenile  Concerts,  &c.; 
consisting  of  Songs,  Hymns,  and  Chants,  with  appropriate  Music,  de 
signed  for  the  use  of  Common  Schools,  Seminaries,  &c.,  to  which  is 
prefixed  the  elements  of  Vocal  Music.  In  many  of  the  Public  Schools 
out  of  the  city,  a,s  well  as  in,  Music  has  recently  constituted  a  part  of 
the  studies  of  the  pupils.  This  we  are  glad  to  see,  as  many  advantages 
may  be  derived  from  such  a  course.  And  the  experiments,  as  yet,  have 
proved  quite  satisfactory.  For  such  purposes,  we  have  seen  no  better 
work  than  the  'WREATH  OF  SCHOOL  SONGS.'" — Olive  Branch. 

"WREATH  OF  SCHOOL  SONGS."  —  "The  above  is  the  title  of  a 
New  Music  Book,  just  from  the  press,  and  is  peculiarly  calculated  to 
interest  the  young  singer  and  make  him  acquainted  with  the  Elements 
of  Music."  —  Eastern  Mail. 

"  It  is  a  charming  little  volume,  and  we  recommend  it  to  all  who  havo 
families."  —  Signal. 


BAKER'S  ELEMENTARY  MUSIC  BOOK, 

Comprising  a  variety  of  Songs,  Hymns,  Chants,  &c.  Designed 
for  the  use  of  Public  and  Private  Schools.  By  BENJAMIN  F, 
BAKER. 

"  Tliis  little  Work  is  designed  for  Children,  as  its  title  indicates.  Mn. 
BAKER  is  an  accomplished  and  successful  Teacher  of  Music  in  our 
Public  Schools  :  and  iiis  experience  in  teaching  Children  to  sing,  hay 
enabled  him  to  prepare  a  work  adapted  to  their  wants.  The  introduc 
tory  part  is  simple  and  comprehensive;  and,  in  the  hands  of  a  good 
teacher,  cannot  fail  to  lead  the  learner  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
science  of  Music.  The  Songs  are  for  the  most  part  lively  and  interesting, 
containing  just  and  moral  sentiments ;  and  the  Music  is  admirably 
adapted  to  them.  We  commend  it  to  the  attention  of  all  those  interested 
in  school  education."  —  Atlas. 

"The  Book  is  prepared  with  knowledge  and  judgment,  and  is  admi 
rably  ad a]> ted  to  the  purposes  for  which  it  is  designed;  and  our  Com 
mittee,  wisely  regarding  the  interest  of  our  Children,  have  atithorix.ed 
its  use  in  those  Schools  of  which  MR.  BAKER  has  the  care."  —  Mercantik 
Journal. 

"  We  have  examined  this  Work,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  recommend  it 
to  all  who  are  desirous  of  obtaining  a  useful  hook.  The  Elements  of 
Music  are  arranged  in  the  most  natural  and  convenient  order  for  the 
use  of  Singing  Schools  and  Private  Classes.  After  a  few  Introductory 
Remarks,  the  Scale  is  introduced  to  the  learner,  and  explained  in  the 
author's  peculiarly  plain  and  happy  style.  Next  in  order  is  the  Staff, 
Clefs,  Notes,  Rests,  &c.  The  whole  Work  is  regularly  laid  out  in  the 
most  comprehensive  form,  illustrated  with  appropriate  Remarks  and 
Examples.  The  Examples  on  the  transposition  of  the  scale,  are  the 
most  plain  and  the  easiest  for  the  pupil  to  understand  of  any  we  have 
ever  seen.  The  Book  also  contains  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pages  of  Music,  '  designed  for  the  use  of  Public  and  Private  Schools.' 
Teachers  of  Music  will  find  this  a  very  useful  text-book,  as  it  will  enable 
them  to  go  through  with  the  Elementary  department  of  instruction  in 
one  half  of  the  time  which  it  usually  requires."  —  World  of  Music. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOOL  LUTE; 

A  Selection  of  Hymns  and  appropriate  Melodies,  adapted  to  the 
arants  of  Sabbath  Schools  and  Social  Meetings.  By  E.  L.  WHITE 
and  J.  E.  GOULD,  authors  of  the  "  Modern  Harp,"  u  Tyrolien 
Lyre,"  "Wreath  of  School  Songs,"  "Opera  Chorus  Book,5* 
fee.,  &c. 


SCHOOL  BOOKS. 

Hitchcock's  Bookkeeping-.  —  A  New  Method  of  teaching 
the  Art  of  Bookkeeping,  by  J.  IRVIN  HITCHCOCK. 

Hitchcock's  Key.  —  A  Key  to  Hitchcock's  Method  of  Book 
keeping. 

French  Spoken.  —  A  New  System,  of  Teaching  French,  by 
EDWARD  CHURCH. 

Cutter's  Physiology.  —  Anatomy  and  Physiology,  designed  for 
Academies  and  Families,  by  CALVIN  CUTTER,  M.D.,  with  over  206 
Engravings. 

Cutter's  First  Book.  —  First  Book  on  Anatomy  and  Physiology, 
by  CALVIN  CUTTER,  M.D.,  with  84  Engravings. 

CoHmm's  Seciuc!.  —  Arithmetic,  upon  the  inductive  method  of 
Instruction,  being  a  Sequel  to  Intellectual  Arithmetic,  by  WARREN  COL- 
BURN,  A.M. 

Beyer's  French  Dictionary.  —  Boyer's  French  Dictionary, 
comprising  all  the  Improvements  of  the  latest  Paris  and  London  editions, 
with  a  large  number  of  useful  Words  and  Phrases,  selected  from  the 
••modern  dictionaries  of  Baiste,  Mailly,  Catineau,  and  others,  with  the  pro 
nunciation  of  each  word,  according  to  the  dictionary  of  the  Abbe  Tardy  : 
to  which  are  prefixed  Rules  for  the  Pronunciation  of  French  Vowels, 
Diphthongs,  and  final  Consonants,  with  a  table  of  French  Verbs,  &c. 

Sherwin's  Algebra.  —  An  Elementary  Treatise  on  Algebra, 
for  the  use  of  Students  in  High  Schools  and  Colleges,  by  THOMAS 
SHERWIN,  A.M. 

Sherwin's  5&ey.  —  A  Key  to  the  Elementary  Treatise  on  Alge 
bra,  by  THOMAS  SHERWIN,  A.M. 

"Worcester's  Dictionary,  in  1  vol.  8vo. 

"Webster's  Dictionary,  complete,  unabridged,  crown  quarto. 

F.  A.  Adams's  Arithmetic  and  Key. 


PRONOUNCING  BIBLE. 

Just  Published,  a  new  edition  of  Alger's  Pronouncing  Bible,  in 
1  vol.  octavo. 

t{  This  is  an  invaluable  edition  cf  the  Bible,  and  should  be  in  ercry 
family  where  there  are  children." 


CLASSICAL   BOOKS. 

Crosby's  Greeli  Grammar.  —  A  Grammar  of  the  Greek 
Language,  by  ALPHEUS  CROSBY,  Professor  of  the  Greek  Language  and 
Literature,  in  Dartmouth  College. 

Crosby's  GreeJt  Tables. 
Crosby's  Xeiioplion's  Anabasis. 

Pickering's  Greek  Lexicon.  —  This  is  the  best  Greek  Lex 
»oa  in  use. 

L,everett's  Latin  Lexicon,  1  vol.  8vo. 

Gould's  Ovid.  —  Excerpta  exscriptis  Publii  Ovidii  Nasonis.  acre- 
dunt  Notulae  Anglican  et  Quasstiones,  in  usum  Scholae  Bostoniensis.  Cura 
B.  A.  GOULD,  A.M. 

Gould's  Horace.  —  Quintii  Horatii  Flacci  Opera,  accedant 
Clavis,  Metrija,  et  Notas  Anglicae  Juventuti  Accommodate.  Cura  B.  A. 
GOULD,  A.M. 

Gould's  Virgil.  —  Publius  Virgilius  Maro's  Bucolica,  Georgica 
et  jEneis,  accedunt  Clavis,  Metrica,  Notulse  Anglicse,  et  Quaestioues. 
Cura  B.  A.  GOULD. 

Xeiiophoii's  Anabasis.  —  Xenophon's  expedition  of  Cyrus 
with  English  notes,  prepared  for  the  use  of  Schools  and  Colleges,  with  » 
Life  of  the  Author,  by  CHARLES  DEXTER  CLEVELAND. 

Greeli.  Delectus.  —  Delectus  Sententiarum  Graicarum  ad  usum 
tiroimm  accommodutus  ;  cum  Notulis  et  Lexico. 


MISCELLANEOUS  BOOKS. 

Encyclopedia  Americana.  —  A  popular  Dictionary  of  Arts, 
Sciences,  Literature,  History,  Politics,  and  Biography,  a  new  edition, 
including  a  copious  collection  of  original  Articles  in  American  Biogra 
phy;  edited  by  FRANCIS  LIEBER,  assisted  by  E.  WIGGLES  WORTH. 
14  vols.,  library  style. 

A  General  Biographical  Dictionary,  comprising  a  sum 
mary  account  of  the  most  Distinguished  Persons  of  all  Ages,  Nations, 
and  Professions,  including  more  than  One  Thousand  articles  of  American 
Biography,  by  the  Rev.  J.  L.  BLAKE,  D.D.,  author  of  the  Family  Ency 
clopedia  of  Useful  Knowledge,  and  various  other  works  on  Education 
and  General  Literature.  Eighth  edition,  revised. 

Tappan's  Poenas. —  Sacred  and  Miscellaneous  Poems,  by 
\V.  B.  TAPPAN. 

The  Green  mountain  Boys.  — By  the  author  of  Locke 
Amsden,  or  the  School  Master ;  May  Martin,  &c.    Revised  edition. 
'  This  is  one  of  the  i£^st  stirring  Tales  of  the  day." 


8 


LocRe  Amsden.  —  Locke  Amsden,  or  the  School  Master  : 
by  tlie  author  of  May  Martin,  Green  Mountain  Boys. 

[  Critical  notices  of  Locke  Amsden.] 

"We  know  of  few  books  on  this  all  important  subject  (education), 
which  can  be  read  with  more  profit  by  all  classes  than  Locke  Amsdenj 
revealing  as  it  does  the  defective  systems  of  instruction  that  are  in  use, 
and  suggesting  the  proper  remedy  for  existing  evils.1'  —  North  American 
Review. 

"  This  tale,  unlike  most  modern  tales,  is  really  worth  a  serious  man's 
reading  —  it  will  go  further  than  any  book  we  know  of  to  aid  in  the 
great  work  of  self-intellectual  culture,  and  make  every  person  his  own 
best  schoolmaster."  —  Gospel  Banner. 

"  Locke  Amsden  should  be  read  by  every  teacher,  school  committee,  and 
every  person  indeed,  that  has  any  interest  in  the  success  and  usefulness  of 
our  common  schools."  —  Caledonian. 

"  Judge  Thompson's  new  work,  Locke  Amsden,  admirably  combines 
romance  and  instruction.  "  —  Vermont  Patriot. 

"  Most  treatises  on  education  in  spite  of  the  intrinsic  importance  and 
value  of  their  inculcations  are  too  didactic,  not  to  say  dull,  to  gain  the 
attention  of  the  masses  ;  but  here  is  a  work,  in  which  the  errors  and  the 
truths  pertaining  to  this  subject  are  vividly  illustrated  by  a  tale  of  absorb 
ing  interest,  which  once  begun,  the  reader  will  be  sure  to  follow  to  the 
end."—  N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"  We  regard  this  as  an  extremely  interesting,  well  told,  and  useful 
story.  —  Boston  Traveller. 

"  This  work  is  at  once  instructive,  entertaining,  and  well  written."  — 
Boston  Post. 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  object  of  the  work  is  a  high  one,  and  successfully 
accomplished."  —  C.  C.  EELTON,  Prof.  Lang.  Harvard  University. 

"The  author  has  gracefully  intertwined  wisdom  with  flowers."  —  KEV. 
CHARLES  BROOKS. 

"  The  purpose  of  this  work  is  to  show  the  success  of  efforts  for  self- 
education,  to  illustrate  the  importance  of  awakening  thought  in  the  pro 
cess  of  education,  and  to  exhibit  the  superiority  of  solid  learning  over 
superficial  accomplishments  ;  and  parents,  teachers,  and  pupils,  may  read 
the  book  to  advantage,  for  it  contains  profitable  hints  for  them  all."  — 
HORACE  EATON,  Governor  of  Vermont. 

"  Of  the  talent  and  spirit  of  this  work,  I  think  very  highly.  There  are 
a  few  errors  of  style  and  typography,  but  they  are  but  slight  blemishes  in 
60  good  a  work."  —  HORACE  MANN,  to  the  Publishers. 

"  I  have  been  much  interested  in  the  perusal  of  Locke  Amsden.  The 
story  is  so  ingeniously  contrived  as  to  win  the  readers  close  attention  tc 
the  end.  You  have  entered  on  a  broad  subject,  affording  many  othei 
fertile  topics  for  development  and  illustration  by  a  pen  like  yours  ;  I  hop< 
you  will  keep  it  in  motion."  —  Prof.  JARED  SPARKS,  to  the  Author. 

"  It  is  a  good  book  —  a  very  good  book  ;  and  one  that  is  calculated  t> 
exercise  a  salutary  influence.     I  accordingly  congratulate  you  on  produc 
ing  at  once  so  interesting  and  so  beneficial  a  work."  —  Prof.  H.  W.  LONG 
j  to  the  Author. 


9 

Octavo  Bible.  —  The  Holy  Bible,  containing  the  Old  and  Nevr 
Testaments,  translated  out  of  the  original  Tongues,  and  with  the  former 
translations  diligently  compared  and  revised. 

Paige's  Commentary*  —  A  Commentary  on  the  New  Testa 
went,  by  Lucius  R.  PAIGE.  Vol.  1st  and  2d,  on  the  Gospels  ;  vol.  od, 
on  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

Waverley  Novels.  —  Waverley  Novels,  27  vols.,  Parker's  Edi 
tion,  revised  and  corrected,  with  a  General  Preface,  an  Introduction1  to 
each  Novel,  and  Notes  historical  and  illustrative  by  the  Author. 

flora's  Interpreter. — Flora's  Interpreter,  or  The  American 
Book  of  Flowers  and  Sentiments,  by  Mrs.  SARAH  JOSEPHA  HALE. 

Floral  Year.  —  The  Floral  Year,  embellished  with  Bouquets  of 
Flowers,  drawn  and  colored  from  Nature,  each  Flower  illustrated  with  a 
Poem,  by  Mrs.  ANNA  PEYNE  DINNIES. 

Festus.  —  Festus,  a  Poem,  by  PHILIP  JAMES  BAILEY,  Barrister  at 
Law. 

Beauties  of  Festus.  —  Compiled  with  a  c&pious  Index,  by  a 
Festonian. 

Course  of  Time.  —  The  Course  of  Time,  a  Poem,  by  ROBERT 
POLLOK,  A.M.,  with  an  enlarged  Index,  a  Memoir  of  the  Author,  an 
Introductory  Notice,  and  an  Analysis  prefixed  to  each  Book;  ' Boston 
Scluool  Edition? 

Mourners'  Book.  —  The  Mourners'  Book,  by  a  Lady,  24mo. 
Gilt, 

Benjamin's  Architect. —  The  Architect,  or  Practical  House 
Carpenter ;  illustrated  by  sixty-four  engravings,  which  exhibit  the  orders 
of  Architecture,  and  other  elements  of  the  Art,  designed  for  the  use  of 
Carpenters  and  Builders,  by  ASHER  BENJAMIN,  Architect. 

Builder's  CJuide.  —  The  Architect,  or  Complete  Builder's  Guide, 
illustrated  by  sixty-six  engravings,  which  exhibit  the  Orders  of  Archi 
tecture  and  other  elements  of  the  Art,  designed  for  the  use  of  Builders, 
particularly  Carpenters  and  Joiners,  by  ASHER  BENJAMIN,  Architect. 

Elements  Of  Architecture.  —  Elements  of  Architecture :  con 
taining  the  Tuscan,  Doric,  Ionic,  and  Corinthian  Orders,  with  all  their 
Details  and  Embellishments,  also,  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Carpentry, 
exhibiting  Thirty-Six  experiments  made  on  various  kinds  of  American 
Timber;  experiments  made  in  various  ways,  on  European  Timber,  by 
European  Artists,  and  on  the  strength  of  Iron,  Steel,  Brass,  Tin,  Lead, 
Stone,  Bricks,  Cement,  £c.,  with  practical  Rules  for  their  application ; 
containing  28  Plates,  by  A.  BENJAMIN. 

Shaw's  Masonry.  —  Practical  Masonry,  or  a  Theoretical  and 
Operative  Treatise  of  Building,  containing  a  scientific  account  of  Stones, 
Clays,  Bricks,  Mortars,  &c.,  and  the  fundamental  rules  in  Geometry,  oil 
Masonry  and  Stone  Cutting,  with  their  application  to  practice,  illustrated 
with  44  Copperplate  engravings,  by  EDWARD  SHAW. 

Scott's  Infantry  Tactics.  —  Abstract  of  Infantry  Toct'iw 
including  exercises  and  manoeuvres  of  Light  Infantry  and  Riflemen,  lor 
the  tise  of  the  Militia  of  the  United  States.  Published  by  the  Depart 
xnent  of  War,  under  the  authority  of  an  Act  of  Congress. 


10 

Prudential  Revelations. —  The  Book  of  Prudential  Revela 
tions,  or  the  Golden  Bible  of  Nature  and  Reason,  and  the  Confidential 
Doctor  at  Home  ;  expounding  to  the  Family  Circle  the  laws  of  Human 
Nature  and  Health,  and  the  Doctrine,  Origin,  and  Progression  of  Diseases, 
and  their  effectual  philanthropic  Remedies,  by  A.  DE  FONTAINE. 

^  A  Kiss  for  a  Blow.  —  A  Kiss  for  a  Blow,  or  a  collection  of 
Stones  for  Children ;  showing  them  how  to  prevent  Quarrelling,  by  HENRY 
0  WRIGHT. 

Marco  Paul's  Adventures  in  pursuit  of  Knowledge,  6  vols.. 
by  the  author  of  the  Rollo  Books. 

Sea  Shells,  by  ALONZO  LEWIS. 

Bouquet  of  Flowers.  — The  Bouquet ;  containing  the  Poetry 
and  Language  of  Flowers,  by  a  LADY. 

Tlie  Balance.  —  The  Balance ;  or  Moral  Arguments  for  Univer- 
salisrn,  by  A.  D.  MAYO. 

Our  I>ay.  — A  Gift  for  the  Times,  edited  by  J.  G.  ADAMS. 

The  World 

Is  better  than  it  once  was,  and  hath  more 
Of  mind  and  Freedom  than  it  ever  had.  —  FESTUS. 

WMttier's  Poetical  Works.  —  The  Poetical  Works  of 
J,  G.  WHITTIER,  in  1  vol.  octavo,  with.  10  Illustrations  by  BILLINGS, 
finely  engraved  on  Steel,  by  American  Artists,  and  handsomely 
bound  in  Cloth,  and  Turkey  Morocco.  This  volume  should  be  on 
the  Centre-Table  of  every  American. 

Porter's  Analysis.  —Analysis  of  the  Principles  of  Rhetor 
ical  Delivery,  as  applied  in  Reading  and  Speaking.  By  EBENEZER 
PORTER,  D.  D.,  late  President  of  the  Theological  Seminary,  Andover ; 
author  of  the  "  Rhetorical  Reader,"  &c.  Revised  and  enlarged,  by 
ALLEN  H.  WELD,  A.  M.,  author  of  "  Latin  Lessons,"  an  "  English 
Grammar,"  &c. 

Few  school  books  have  met  with  more  favor,  or  stood  better  the 
test  of  use,  than  Porter's  Analysis ;  and  few,  if  any,  it  is  believed, 
have  been  made  on  the  subject  of  Elocution,  more  philosophical, 
discriminating,  and  practical.  Frequent  calls  for  this  work  have 
nduced  the  publishers  to  issue  a  new  and  revised  edition.  Teach 
ers  and  school  committees  are  requested  to  call  and  examine  the 
book.  Teachers  wishing  to  examine  it  will  be  furnished  with  copies 
gratuitous  for  that  purpose,  by  calling  on  or  sending  to  the  publish- 
tre.  No  agent  will  be  employed  to  swap  it  into  use. 


NEW  EDITION  OF  VIRGIL. 

The  Bucolics,  Oeorgics,  and  JEiieid   of  Virgil, 

with  English  Notes,  a  Life  of  Virgil,  and  Remarks  on  Scanning,  by 
EDWARD  MOORE,  M.  A. 

The  above  edition  of  Virgil  is  just  published,  and  from  the  high, 
testimonials  of  the  author's  ability  and  scholarship,  it  is  believed  t« 
be  one  of  the  best  editions  of  the  work  now  in  the.  jaarket.  From 
the  numerous  testimonials  in  favor  of  this  edition,  we  select  the  fol 
lowing  extracts  :  — 

"  I  consider  the  Notes  to  be  prepared  with  great  care,  indicating 
the  knowledge  and  tact  of  an  accomplished  and  thorough  scholar, 
and  keeping  a  happy  medium  between  affording  too  much  and  too 
little  assistance  to  the  pupil.  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  edition  will  be 
received  by  intelligent  teachers  as  a  welcome  gift,  and  that  it  will 
soon  gain  a  place  as  one  of  the  best,  if  not  the  best,  school  edition  of 
Virgil."  CHARLES  BECK, 

Professor  of  Latin  in  Harvard  University. 

"  I  have  examined  a  considerable  portion  of  Mr.  Moore's  English 
Notes  to  his  new  edition  of  Virgil,  and  I  certainly  concur  in  the 
opinion  of  their  merits  as  expressed  by  Professor  Beck.  They  appear 
to  me  to  be  at  once  learned  and  elegant,  and  singularly  adapted  to  the 
wants  of  scholars  in  the  languages."  C.  C.  FELTON, 

Professor  of  Greek  in  Harvard  University. 

SMYTH'S  LECTURES. 

lectures  oil  Modern  History,  from  the  Irruption  of  the 
Northern  Nations  to  the  Close  of  the  American  Revolution,  by  WIL 
LIAM  SMYTH,  Professor  of  Modern  History  in  the  University  of  Cam 
bridge.  Third  American  edition,  revised  and  corrected,  with  Addi 
tions,  including  a  Pieface,  and  a  List  of  Books  of  American  History, 
by  JARED  SPARKS. 

NEW  CHORUS  BOOK. 

The  Sacred  Chorus  Boole,  consisting  mostly  of  Selec 
tions  from  the  Works  of  Handel,  Haydn,  Mozart,  Mendelssohn, 
Romberg,  Rossini,  &c.,  &c.,  with  an  Accompaniment  for  the  Organ 
or  Piano-Forte,  suitable  for  Singing  Societies  and  advanced  Schools. 
By  EDWARD  L.  WHITE  and  J.  EDOAR  GOULD,  editors  of  Modern  Harp, 
Tyrolien  Lyre,  Opera  Chorus  Book,  &c.,  &c. 

HISTORY   OF  MUSIC. 

Gleanings  from  the  History  of  music,  from  the  earli 
est  ages  to  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century.  By  JOSEPH 
BIRD. 


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